Living inside Yesterday
by Potter47
Summary: COMPLETE! They say the truth will set you free...but do you want to be? They say that memories are the diary we all carry about with us...what a coincidence. They say that time flies...but in which direction? Revised through chapter: 3
1. The Bus and the Bell Jar

**_Author's Note:_ **This story was originally written between 7 December 2003 and 31 March 2004. I have decided, after a great deal of procrastination, to revise it fully, one chapter at a time.

This is the first story in what has become the Yesterday Sequence. Currently, two other novel-lengths follow it: "Believe in Yesterday," and "Yesterday's Tomorrow." BiY is complete as well, and YsT is currently a work-in-progress.

This revision will probably entail improved grammar (I was had just turned thirteen when I wrote this chapter, for instance); improved canonicalness (there goes the grammar), incorporating facts that weren't known when originally written, such as Ginny's first name; and new and replaced scenes (this'd be the reason to read again if you've already read it before). Also, some chapter titles will be changed (like this first one, which was originally titled "A Timely Mistake," a not-so-timely mistake on my part).

If you have read this before, and disliked it, please give it another chance. If you read this before and _liked_ it, review again just for the sake of reviewing. I like reviews.

(Review anyway, please—it's what keeps fan fic authors alive, you know.)

**IMPORTANT NOTICE: **This is the second revision of this chapter. After I had already posted the first one, I was alerted to a very important fact that I had completely forgotten about—and that _no one, _in over two hundred reviews, had pointed out. Thank you, wvchemteach.

Living inside Yesterday  
_written and revised by Potter47 _

_** Part One  
The Shadow of the Past **_

"Everything happens to everybody sooner or later if there is time enough."  
— Shaw

**_ Chapter One  
The Bus and the Bell Jar _**

Vincent Crabbe (senior, of course) was honoured to have been among the chosen to retrieve his Master's prophecy. He knew that the Dark Lord took this _very_ seriously.

_Ha! Seriously!_ He still could not believe that Potter had fallen for it. He always thought that his Master's foe must have had a brain on his shoulders—but apparently not.

How would the Dark Lord have got hold of Sirius Black anyhow? By walking into a house guarded by Dumbledore's greatest protective spells? Not likely.

Of course, there _were _ways around such spells, but—they weren't worth the trouble. (And Crabbe only knew vaguely of their existence, anyway.)

While Crabbe _was_ honoured to go to the Ministry that night... one can never be too careful. So, he decided that if any opportunity should come to say... hurt Potter, for his Master... to make it less likely for him to escape once again... Crabbe would most definitely take the chance.

The Death Eaters that had been chosen for this excursion were among the highest ranking in the Dark Lord's army: the Lestranges; Lucius Malfoy—

_Me_, thought Crabbe smugly. He could not get over that fact.

They were hiding—in strategic points of the Department of Mysteries, the Death Eaters were placed, simply _watching_. It seemed that Potter, and his friends, kept choosing the wrong doors, for Crabbe (located in the Time Room) had seen no sign of them. They had to go through this room after all, if they were to get to the Hall of Prophecy.

He was paired with one of the Lestrange brothers. They looked similar, so he wasn't quite sure which one it was—he hadn't really been paying close attention when Malfoy had assigned their orders.

He saw them! Potter led the way, and then there was Granger — the Mudblood — two Weasleys, the Longbottom boy, and a rather odd looking blonde girl that he didn't particularly recognise.

The group walked along the room, until they came to the great bell jar. The Weasley girl stopped and stared at it, mesmerised. "Oh, _look_!" she said, and pointed to the heart of the jar where the hummingbird was currently emerging from its egg.

Potter walked up next to her. "Keep going!" he said.

In that instant, when his eyes flicked back from the fluttering, struggling bird to Potter and the Weasley girl, Crabbe had thought of a plan. A _great_ plan: he would crash the bell jar on the two standing in its shadow, and they would be nothing more than two babies! _They won't stand a _chancehe thought.

And the Dark Lord _had_ said that there was something... _unique_... about the Weasley girl. _Good to get her out of the way, too._

He whispered, "_Wingardium Leviosa!_" pointing his stubby wand.

A faint, faint sound—and the bell jar hovered an inch or two above where it had stood. No one seemed to notice anything out-of-the-ordinary.

Crabbe smirked at his own brilliance, and carefully directed the jar...

"You dawdled enough by—" the Weasley girl stopped short—her gaze was fixed upon the jar, slowly, slowly tipping toward herself and Potter—

"Move Harry! Ginny!" called the Mudblood, Granger.

But they didn't move. With a quick flick of Crabbe's wand, the jar came crashing down on them...

...and they were gone.

——

"—that old arch," Ginny finished softly, eyes wide and wondering how she could still be standing.

It was dark now, suddenly, incredibly so. Not even the thinnest ray of light shone to light the way, to show them where they were.

"Where are we?" said Harry. He paused a moment, and then added: "What happened?"

"I dunno," said Ginny. "There was that—that green stuff, and—" She fell silent.

The 'green stuff' had been a great deal of verdant smoke which seemed to have wisped its way by Ginny's eyes with a great deal of slowness in the barely-moments between the bell jar's fall and the darkness.

"Do you have your wand?" Harry asked, which was a good thing to ask—and there were pats on clothing, the sound of one searching all of one's pockets... all Harry had in his was his DA galleon, which he still carried upon his person, even since Umbridge had caught them. "I reckon I dropped mine."

"Me as well," said Ginny. "What do we do?"

Harry dropped carefully to his knees, and reached his hands before him so he wouldn't bang into anything. "We look for them."

"But what if we dropped them before... the green stuff came? The smoke—"

"Then we're out of luck. Not that we had much to begin with, tonight."

This wasn't _entirely _true, of course—they'd had some luck with the Centaurs and Grawp, and luck in finding the Thestrals (or rather in the Thestrals finding them). But when one is in total darkness, one tends to forget the lucky things.

Ginny dropped to her knees beside him and began to search as well. It seemed hours passed in the dark, though surely it was only minutes—or was it really hours?

Clunk!

"Ow!" said Ginny and Harry simultaneously. They had crawled into each other's heads.

"Sorry," they both said, rubbing their heads—each rubbing his or her own. The world spun round Harry, and so did Ginny's face.

...her face?

He could see her face?

She was grinning now, too, he could see—and he could see why. She had found her wand, and lighted it—he wondered how he hadn't heard the _Lumos! _that she had to have spoken for it to light up.

"Found it," she said.

"I noticed," said Harry, and he blinked several times—it was _very_ brightall of a sudden, and that hurt terribly—and looked away. He spotted his own wand, just a few inches away from Ginny's leg, and picked it up.

"_Lumos!_"

——

_GONE? _Crabbe thought wildly. _Where the hell did they go?_

"What just happened?" Weasley said, to no one in particular. It was a valid point, for as soon as the bell jar had touched the ground, and the two had disappeared, it stopped without crashing and righted itself. Crabbe thought that was peculiar.

"I don't know." It was the Mudblood that answered.

"The bell jar ate them!" said the blonde, looking desperately worried.

The last boy—Longbottom—was silent. He blinked his eyes, as though to ascertain he had really seen the others disappear, and hadn't imagined it.

A door crashed open, and Crabbe could see Lucius standing there, eyes visible through the slits in his mask, clearly outraged.

"Crabbe, you fool! What in hell did you do that for?"

The remaining students wore matching expressions of horror and shock.

"_Crucio!_" Malfoy shouted, and

Pain coursed through Crabbe's body, and he was unaware of anything from that point on.

——

Harry held his wand aloft, and although the room—which seemed to be very large—could not all be seen by the light of only the two wands, enough was visible to make Harry feel _everything was quite familiar..._

"Gin," he said slowly, hesitantly; "is it just me... or does this look like... the same room?" Harry waved his wand around, to spread more light. Indeed, it _did_ seem to be the quite definitely same room. The time-turners were still on the walls, the bell jar was still on the table—

"It's not broken!" Ginny said, amazed. "It crashed on us, and it's not broken."

For a moment the two of them just stared at the bell jar, watching the hummingbird once again—its wings moved so very, very quickly... Ginny stepped forward, careful so as not to bump into the jar, and put her face right up close to the glass to watch the bird. It seemed... calming.

And then Harry said:

"Where are the others?" and she pulled back, looking round once again.

"They disappeared," said Ginny finally. And then: "Or did we? It was probably us, wasn't it? This place looks so different."

It didn't really—it just _felt _different.

And then, suddenly, Harry had a sneaking suspicion that he knew what had happened.

"Come on. Let's get out of here." He led the way to the door, carefully so as not to disturb anything else in the Time Room—and went into the circular room, Ginny close behind him.

"This'll take forever," she said, as the room started to spin. "Which way's out?" she called desperately. "Where's the exit?"

A door opened.

"Oh—that was simple."

"Come on." Harry walked through the open door.

There they were, in _the_ corridor—the one that had haunted his dreams for the past year, and now he knew there was, obviously, a reason.

When they reached the lift, Harry's suspicions increased—although the voice sounded just the same (for it was probably magical and not a real person's voice to begin with) some of what it was saying—the Department names, and floors—were different from how they had been just the short while ago that Harry had been in there last.

_Clink_, went the doors as they opened, and the voice announced, "The atrium," in that cool voice of its. Harry and Ginny stepped out of the lift, and into the large blue-ceilinged room.

"Whatchoo doin' 'ere?" said a voice they did not recognise—the watchwizard was apparently on-duty tonight, and present just as much as he wasn't when they had arrived. But this watchwizard was not the one Harry had seen at the time of his hearing at all.

Harry was sure of his suspicions now; completely so.

"We fell asleep," said Ginny, then—Harry looked at her, puzzled, but she continued: "in my dad's office. Official Gobstones Club, you know," she lied, naming one of the names that was still there to be heard in the lift. "We were playing again and again and we just plopped over there at the board—we have to have been out for hours."

The wizard-who-was-not-Eric Munch furrowed his brow, perhaps wondering why they had no ink on them from the hours of Gobstones—or perhaps why Harry was covered in blood (a fact that he had just noticed—he'd completely forgotten about the battle in the forest). However, the wizard seemed quite confused as to how it was wrong to be _leaving_ the Ministry after-hours, and so they were soon on their way.

Just as soon as they had smushed themselves into the telephone booth, Harry whispered:

"You've figured it out too, haven't you?"

"What? Figured what out?" Ginny asked as the lightishness of the atrium gave way to foot after foot of earth.

"That we've gone back in time," said Harry, and as the words left his lips there was a bit of a finality to them; they _had _gone back in time. Really.

"Oh, that?" said Ginny. "Yes, of course we've gone back in time."

Harry was infinitely relieved that she agreed with him—it would have been much more difficult to have to convince her himself. But then, he thought, _Why wouldn't she have realised it herself?_

She seemed to be biting the inside of her cheek. Then she said, aloud:

"The question is, of course... when are we?"

**

——

**

Hermione Granger was not a stupid girl. She knew exactly what had happened; Harry and Ginny had gone back in time. She didn't know what year they were in, but she was sure that was what happened. _What other explanation is there? _she thought to herself. Of course, there _were _other explanations; Luna's thought, for instance, that the bell jar had eaten them. Or perhaps they had just been enveloped into oblivion.

But Hermione knew better, of course.

Malfoy barked at them:

"All of you! Hand over your wands and no one need get hurt. We're all going to see a friend of mine, and explain—" he jerked his wand, which was still cursing Crabbe, "—just what has happened."

"And why should we listen to you?" Luna inquired suspiciously-yet-politely.

A woman came up beside Malfoy, and said:

"And who are you, little girl? I don't recognize _you_."

"Luna Lovegood," Luna informed her. _Luna could use a lesson in dealing with a sociopath—Harry could add it to the DA curriculum. Malfoy could be a test subject._

_If Harry can find his way back, that is, _Hermione's mind added against her will.

The woman took off her mask and smiled. _Urgh. Not a pretty sight._

"Hello, Luna. My name's Bella. Would you like to play a nice _game_?" Her voice was disgustingly sarcastic.

Neville looked as though he was struggling to remain standing. "Longbottom?" Bellatrix asked, turning to him.

He nodded, just barely.

"I haven't seen you since you were _this—_" she put her hand a couple of feet from the floor, "—small. You were so _cute_ back then. Whatever happened?" She laughed. Hermione felt a strong urge to just curse her.

In fact, she did.

"_Bogius!_"

Ginny has good taste.

Hermione had never actually _seen_ the Bat-Bogey Hex performed before, but she had read about it numerous times. Bellatrix Lestrange, taken aback, flew backwards into three of other Death Eaters, one of whom was rather large, and knocked over a few more. Great flapping things attacked her face.

Imagine if Ginny had done it.

"_Dominius!_"

_Luna_. Luna of all people was the first to follow. Her charm knocked one Death Eater over into the one next to him, and him into the next, until the four remaining students were the only ones left standing.

The Domino Charm.

They ran—

——

Light poked through at the top of the telephone booth, and Harry wondered why it was bright out—then, as the booth moved farther and farther above the ground level, the light disappeared, turning—

A man stood with an electric torch in the street, Harry could see, moving it back and forth, as though searching for something. Harry and Ginny kept their wands firmly in their grasps, yet hid them within their robes, so that this man—clearly a Muggle—could not see.

They stayed within the booth for a long time, unsure of what to do. And then the man seemed to fade away, taking the light with him, and disappeared into one of the buildings—

"_Oh my God_," Ginny murmured in a terrible voice as she got a look at the buildings for the first time.

Barely visible in the darkness, the buildings... they would have been barely visible anyway, as they were hardly there at all. Rubble, most of them—or at least completely unsteady-looking, like a twisted, Muggle take on the Burrow.

Harry swallowed as he looked round further, moving round in the telephone booth to peer through a different pane of glass—Harry reckoned that the phone booth itself must have looked terribly out of place in the destruction.

"What happened?" Ginny said, her voice echoing emptily before even escaping her throat.

"We must be..." Harry began, but blinked and tried to focus once again: "I think we know when we are, now."

Ginny seemed to know what he meant, instantly, and a terrible shiver passed over the two of them. They both knew _exactly _when they were, more or less. Harry thought of it as the second world war—Ginny thought of it as Grindelwald's reign.

"What do we do?" Ginny said in that small voice.

"We need to get to Hogwarts," Harry said, uncertain and quivering. "If anyone can help us, it's Dumbledore."

Hesitantly, Harry slid open the door to the booth, and stepped out—the street beneath his feet was gravel-y, like the play park in Little Whinging, but completely different at the same time.

"I wonder what year it is?" said Ginny. "You think it's near the end of it?"

They heard a distant sound, a dog barking in the distance, and Harry turned round on instinct, some crazy part of him assuming it was Sirius. Of course it wasn't—Sirius hadn't been alive during World War II, and even if he had, he certainly wouldn't be prowling round in Muggle London in the middle of the night.

"Let's go," said Harry, and they started to walk.

——

Once Ron, Hermione, Luna, and Neville were in the circular room, it began to spin again. Luna murmured: "I wonder if we're moving or if the rooms are moving round us?"

Nobody really heard her.

"This one," said Ron, pointing to the door directly in front of him. He tried to push—

"Locked," he said, frustrated.

"Wait a minute," said Luna, looking at the door thoughtfully as Ron was about to choose another. "Ronald, let me help you."

Hermione knew it was fruitless. "Luna, it won't—"

Ron and Luna pushed together.

"—open," Hermione finished rather pathetically.

It had opened. Luna caught Ron's robes so he didn't fall over, into the room. They all looked in, expecting some sort of magnificent secret chamber, but—

"It's empty," said Ron bewilderedly.

"How anticlimactic," said Luna disappointedly.

"Maybe... maybe the _door_ is the point of the room?" Hermione said adverbially. "Maybe something about the people who open it..." Hermione shook herself. "This is _really_ not the time. Nor is this the right door."

Neville chose next—

—and there were Death Eaters, twelve Death Eaters, slowly helping each other up—

"_Great_ choice, Neville," Ron muttered as Neville slammed the door back shut, nearly catching his fingers in its handle-less doorway.

Luna chose the door to a room they hadn't seen before: there were planets floating in it, and in the centre was a _very _realistic model of the sun.

She took a step forward. At least, she _tried _to take a step forward. As soon as her leg had passed the threshold, it began to float. It didn't seem all that odd...almost as though she was _supposed_ to fly without a broom. However, it was a rather peculiar sensation for Luna herself.

"I do wonder what spell does this?" she inquired to no one, doing a sort of pirouette in the air. A moment later, she added, frowning: "Although I don't like the look of that sun."

"Er..." said Ron, who was more than a bit lost as to how to get Luna back to the door. Should he step in himself, and try to help in some way that probably would be foolish? Should he try to conjure a rope and toss it out? Should he ask Hermione?

But then it hit him like something quite hard:

"_Accio Luna!_" he shouted, not quite thinking things through properly.

Luna came speeding back toward the door. Quickly. _Very _quickly.

"Whee!"

Luckily, Ron was right there to catch her. Well, more like he was right there as a _target_ for her...

"Ow."

——

Harry and Ginny had been walking for a while; a long, long while that felt more like a mile than a while, and a mile wasn't even a measure of time.

Hogwarts was _quite _a distance from London. And that distance seemed multiplied horribly by the sights round them—broken down buildings and other, more disturbing things. Anyone with a brain would not be out walking in the middle of the night, when the world was like this—not in the middle of London.

They had begun hearing more noises as the night went on: howls and yowls and owls, oh my. Harry had begun to sense things were familiar—he had walked these streets before, he knew (_After? _he wondered), on the day of his hearing. Mr Weasley had walked both ways with him, to and fro the Ministry, and although this did help him a small bit—preventing him from walking off to Gloucester, for instance—

But there really was no advantage, as these streets had been completely rebuilt by then. They walked in the direction he reckoned was towards Grimmauld Place, although of course it would do no good to find it. Harry didn't feel much like meeting Sirius's mother in person, nor any of the other Blacks, for that matter. They walked the way they did only because they had no better ideas.

And then Harry heard something quite unlike anything they had heard before, if only because it had a figure attached.

It was a strange, guttural snarl, like that of an animal but somehow a bit more human. Harry saw the 'person' it belonged to, standing strangely illuminated in the moonlight by the side of the road—he had longish black hair and a vaguely familiar look about him, but Harry was sure he had never seen him before.

Harry and Ginny shivered at the sight of him. He recalled a Dementor in some sort, or perhaps a Dementor's victim. But he was, for the most part, human—he just seemed to be a very desperate human, perhaps desperate for something Harry didn't want to think about, like flesh. That was a terrible thought.

Harry knew, somehow, inherently, that this person was not a Muggle, even though he wore no robes. And although he made no move for Harry or Ginny, Harry felt that he was dangerous—perhaps a servant of Grindelwald, although Harry wasn't really thinking of that at all.

They sped up their stride, passing the man quickly, who watched them the whole time. Harry did not want to leave his back to the man, but he had no choice, did he, if they were to move on? He couldn't very well walk backwards.

Taking a breath, Harry ploughed onward, Ginny never missing a stride. After another few moments, she put a hand on his arm, and Harry couldn't tell if it had been meant as comforting or to comfort herself, but he didn't really mind.

Harry glanced backwards once again, unable to stop himself, and the man was still watching them. Harry didn't like that. Finally, making up his mind, he turned down a small alleyway, and Ginny continued to hold on firmly to his arm. Obscured by a mostly-there brick building, they stopped a moment to catch their breath.

"Who was that, do you think?" Ginny whispered, leaning against the building and making herself rather small and close to the ground.

Harry—seated next to her, and trying with all his might not to look back round the corner, for fear of being spotted—shook his head. "I dunno," he said. "But I didn't like him."

"Me neither," said Ginny, and they both shivered again, simultaneously.

They sat in relative silence for a few moments, and Harry felt it was very cold for a mid-June night. He put his hands in his pockets.

The thought crossed Harry's mind that an alleyway wasn't quite the best place to hide from a potentially dangerous person, but where else were they to go?

"D'you think the others are all right?" Ginny asked, then. "_Will be _all right, I mean, in the Ministry?"

Harry hadn't really thought of that, and the thought of that led him to the thought of something else.

"They're stuck there with Voldemort!" Harry suddenly realised, and he remembered that Sirius was still trapped as well. "We've got to get back—"

"Shh!" said Ginny urgently. "You're screaming. If they are, there's nothing we can do about it right now, is there? We'll have get back before anything we could do could help, and we've got to get to Hogwarts if we're going to get back, right?"

Harry was slightly calmed down by her words, and she smiled: "You do realise I just repeated what _you_ said to _me_ earlier?"

Harry hadn't.

And then, without so much of a moment's preamble or thought, Harry said:

"We are _stupid_."

"And why is that Harry?" said Ginny with a wry grin. "Because we didn't know enough to run from the big scary falling bell jar? Because we landed ourselves in the middle of _another _war?"

"No. We're stupid because we didn't think of _this_." He stood, then, and pulled her up with him, and made impatiently for the other end of the alley, where it opened into another street.

"Where are you going?" Ginny asked quietly, yet loud enough for him to hear, and she chased after him. As soon as he reached the end, he pulled out his wand again and stuck his arm out into the street.

BANG.

"Welcome... to the Knight Bus, emergency transport... for the stranded witch... or wizard." An old wizard, with a rather odd shaped nose, stood on the steps to the Knight Bus. He spoke very, _very_ slowly, and Harry thought there couldn't have been anyone less like Stan Shunpike. He also had a strange twitch about him, barely noticeable yet very pronounced, somehow. "Just stick out your wand—"

"Er, hello," Harry said, "my name is Harry Potter, and this is Ginny Weasley." It almost felt odd to use his real name, not worrying about being recognised. But then again, he would not be born for decades to come, would he?

"—hand, step on board... and we can take you anywhere you want to go. Please... let me finish my sentences. People always are interrupting me... and frankly, I don't like it."

"Er, sir?" asked Ginny. "There was an accident at school. Somehow we got sent out here, to London, and _frankly_ we have no way to get back. And we really need to, quick, you know, what with the war and—"

_Frankly_, Harry thought, _Ginny is a good liar. _First the watchwizard and then this one... he'd have to keep an eye on her, he thought, trying not to smirk.

"Do you have the money... to get to Hogwarts? Because frankly... I don't like it when people try to ride the Knight Bus for free. It clearly states... in the rules for my occupation... that a trip from London to Hogwarts is two gal— "

"_Two galleons?_" Ginny was, quite clearly, outraged. "But there's a war on! It's an emergency!"

"—leons. Please let me finish my sentences. People always are interrupting me... and frankly, I don't like it. And I am aware that there is a—"

"Er, it's OK Ginny. Sir? Could I just speak with her for a moment? Privately?" Harry had an idea.

"—war on. That is perfectly all right with me, lad... I have always been a patient wiza—"

"Thanks."

Harry led Ginny away a few feet. He asked her softly, "Do you have your galleon?"

"_What?_ Even if I did have one, I would _not _pay that much just to get to Hogwarts—"

"No, not a _real_ one. The galleon from the DA. Do you have yours?"

The old man seemed to be humming something, as thought to brighten the spirits of the dreadful night.

He sang under his breath, "..._off to see the Wizard... the wonderful Wizard of Oz, because, because, because, because, because...! Because of the wonderful things he does_..."

"Yes, I have mine." She had been rummaging through her robes as Harry listened to the man sing. It gave him an idea.

"Good."

They walked back over to the man, and Harry handed him the two fake galleons, hoping that he would not know the difference. He said to the man, "You Muggle-born too?"

Ginny looked at him curiously, wondering whether he'd gone insane or had a plan.

"Er... yes, why?" said the man, rather uncomfortably.

"The song. _The Wizard of Oz_. I forget, how long ago did that come out?" Harry asked, innocently.

"Oh, that was... round the start of the war, wasn't it? ... nineteen... thirty-_nine_ I think. Six years ago, then, yes. I don't know why... but frankly, I just love those Muggle films." He started to hum again, the sound sounding eerily out-of-place.

"Me, too," Harry lied. Truth was, he'd never actually gone to the cinema. The Dursleys would never take him.

They climbed aboard the bus, and Harry realised—as he saw the numerous beds spread across the floor—that the conductor must have been rather gullible to believe that there had been some accident that had sent them here, as it was the middle of the night. Unless

it had been an Astronomy accident, of course.

"_What,_ was that Harry? The Wizard of Oz? Who?"

"It's a film," said Harry, hoping that perhaps she'd heard of the concept from Mr Weasley. "From nineteen thirty-nine, apparently—now we know what year we're in. Nineteen forty-five. There was some fiftieth-anniversary thing when I was nine, you know, and Aunt Petunia almost had a heart attack when she saw Dudley singing along to '_We're off to see the Wizard, the wonderful Wizard of Oz,_' in the living room." She chuckled at that, to cover her incomprehension.

"You should see it sometime," Harry said quietly as an afterthought, and they sat down on two of the last beds, towards the end of the bus, and it BANGed back to wherever it had been before.

**_ Next Chapter  
Identity Crisis_**

"Though analogy is often misleading, it is the least misleading thing we have."  
— Butler

**_ Revised Version  
Coming Soon _**


	2. Identity Crisis

Living inside Yesterday  
_ Potter47_

**Part One  
The Shadow of the Past**

"Though analogy is often misleading, it is the least misleading thing we have."  
— Butler **__**

Chapter Two  
Identity Crisis 

Ron was still sporting red ears as the four of them emerged from the fellytone booth—the... er... rather _small _fellytone booth.

Luna had flown at him quite _quickly_ when he had Summoned her, you see. She had hit him full force and he had been pushed into the opposite wall. It had been... well, it had been quite the embarrassing situation. Especially as they had kind of been... _squished_ together and...

Suffice to say, it had not been the most _comfortable_ of circumstances.

And Hermione! Hermione (who had been Ron's best friend for years)—Hermione (who never, _ever_, would just joke around with someone)—all Hermione could do was to 'attempt' to keep herself from bursting out _laughing!_

Neville had also seemed to find it quite funny, although _he_ was the only one among them that seemed to remember that there were a dozen Death Eaters not thirty paces away. So he reminded them of this fact, and they moved along. Neville had always been one of Ron's _favourite _friends: always nice to people. _Other than Malfoy, of course_.

Luna conjured a piece of meat with her wand, and strolled dreamily along to the Thestrals, not a care in the world. Ron shook his head—he had never quite understood her.

_Crack!_

_What was that? _Ron asked himself, spinning round to find the second best thing he could have imagined—the first being, of course, the Cannons in a parade float, waving the championship trophy around, and announcing that a free buffet was being held for all loyal fans.

That can wait for now.

Sirius, Lupin, Tonks, Kingsley, and Mad-Eye had all Apparated in front of them. Sirius, who didn't even seem to notice the four students, was running as fast as possible for the fellytone booth.

"Hold it, Black!" growled Mad-Eye. "Did you not _notice_ that four of his friends are right here?"

Sirius tried to stop, but gave up and just turned while in motion. He stopped in front of them, out of breath, and said:

"Where is he? Where is Harry?"

"We don't know—" Ron started to say, but Hermione cut him off:

"It's obvious _where_ he is, we just don't know _when_."

"What? What happened?" Sirius's grey eyes quickly counted them. "Snape said Ginny was with you too."

"There was," said Luna rather pleasantly, "an accident... Hang on, aren't you Stubby Boardman?" Her head was tilted curiously to the side.

"Er, no, Luna," said Ron awkwardly, "this is—"

"—_Sirius Black_." Neville spoke, his voice barely more than a whisper. His eyes were wide and fearful—

"Neville, Luna..." said Hermione, "that's a long story, and this really isn't a good time."

Sirius was still waiting to hear what had happened:

"_Well? What happened?_" he said, finally, unable to be patient.

"There's this bell jar, in the Department of Mysteries," Hermione began. "A Death Eater —Crabbe, I think—he levitated it, and tipped it onto Harry and Ginny. They disappeared when it hit them. It's obvious that it somehow transported them back in time, to the same room, of course, in the Department of Mysteries, but years, maybe even _decades_ ago."

Ron blinked at her explanation. _That was my very first thought as well_, he thought sarcastically.

"Ha–Harry's lost? In time?" Sirius seemed almost to wobble a bit on his feet.

"Yes. And Ginny as well."

"How do we get him—_them_, back?"

"I don't know," said Hermione, shaking her head slightly, hesitantly, as though she didn't quite want to admit it.

"Hermione doesn't know the answer," said Ron ominously. "That's never a good sign."

——

The Knight Bus stopped abruptly just outside the gates of Hogwarts. Harry and Ginny made their way to the front of the bus—there was a strange old woman who was asleep with her eyes open in one of the beds, and the two of them moved past her rather quickly, anxious to leave.

The conductor was standing up front, looking at one of the galleons that they had handed him before. He spoke to himself with his head tilted, weighing it in his hand up close to his ear as though it were speaking to him. "I don't know why... but frankly, this just doesn't feel right..."

They moved quickly towards the door, practically jumping the last couple steps.

"That was close," murmured Ginny, once the bus had BANGed away. "I hope he doesn't come back, saying we gave him counterfeit gold. That's a serious charge, you know—"

"Even if he did," said Harry, starting the walk up to the castle, "he probably wouldn't be able to find us. It's not as though are names are in the school records."

After a quick moment of hesitation, Ginny said: "Yes, I suppose you're right."

The pair walked up the familiar school grounds, almost feeling as though they had not gone back in time at all, but instead had just returned to Hogwarts. Everything looked just the same here, just the same as it always had—_Always would, _Harry corrected, but it was rather hopeless.

It was a breath of fresh air, to Harry, to see the castle as it should be, after the war-torn London had set his mind in strange directions. It was good to be back where things made some semblance of sense—but then, having just been transported through time, Harry was quite unsure anything would ever make sense again.

Harry grasped the handle on the large, oak front door, and pulled: it would not open. He tried again, and again, and again, and he felt that if he pulled any harder, his arm would dislocate, which wouldn't be all that pleasant.

"Harry, _you_ of all people should know that Hogwarts doesn't just let _random_ people inside. It doesn't recognize you as a student, so you can't go in."

"Then... how _do_ we get in? I doubt it'd recognise _you_, either—"

She answered him by walking up to the door, raising a fist, and knocking firmly, three times.

_I really am stupid tonight_, _aren't I?_ thought Harry.

The door opened slightly, and a face appeared behind it—for a moment Harry thought of how coincidental it was that there had been someone just inside the entrance hall, but he soon forgot it, as he recognised who the face belonged to:

"Dumbledore!" Harry said, just as Ginny reached the same conclusion.

The man—Dumbledore—blinked. "Yes, that's me. Of course, it could also have been my brother, but as he isn't here and you were addressing _me..._" He narrowed one eye slightly. "What are you two doing out of Gryffindor Tower at this time of night?"

"They got Siriu—" Harry stopped, realising that _this_ Dumbledore knew nothing of Sirius Black. "We...er..."

"_What_?" asked Ginny with a tone of incredulity. "What do you mean. '_out of Gryffindor Tower'?_"

Dumbledore blinked once more. "The two of you are standing on the front steps of the school—you do realise this? And Gryffindor Tower is—" he opened the door further, and stepped outside; he pointed high above the school, "—way up there. You are certainly not in Gryffindor Tower, my young friends—"

"That's not what I meant," said Ginny. "I meant, how do you recognise us?" Harry hadn't even noticed that Dumbledore shouldn't have known who they were.

"With my eyes," said Dumbledore, and he seemed to be growing tired of the conversation—or perhaps just tired in general, as he seemed to be battling a yawn. He added, then, in a worn-out voice: "Should I... _not? _Recognise you, I mean?"

"Sir, my name's Harry Potter—this is Ginny Weasley. Surely you don't recognise our names?"

"You must not remember mine, if you think I am called Shirley," said Dumbledore, and Harry noticed that although this Dumbledore was much younger than the one he knew, he looked just as—if not more—fatigued.

"Stop playing around, Mr Potter," Dumbledore said, then. "Of course I recognise your names—would it not have been prudent—if you are indeed trying to fool me, and have not simply had a bit too much butterbeer—had to change both the given _and_ surs?" Harry blinked, unsure of what he meant—_The given answers? What?_ "Or do you expect me to believe that you are, perhaps, John Potter's cousin and this is not your girlfriend at all?"

"_What?_" Harry and Ginny chorused.

"What do you mean, _my girlfriend? _Who do you think we are?" Harry was incredibly bewildered, as was evidenced by the high ratio of interrogative to non-interrogative sentences that were flying out of his mouth.

"You, my friend," said Dumbledore, pointing towards Harry, "are John Potter, fifth year Gryffindor." He then pointed at Ginny. "And you are Virginia Arden, fourth year Gryffindor and girlfriend of John. I do like to keep an eye on the students, so stop trying to fool me. It wears on my nerves."

_How many people are trying to fool him_, thought Harry, _to make him look like this?_

"Virginia..." Dumbledore added, a worried look in his eye. "You look a bit different—just a bit. Are you ill?"

The two students had matching expressions of complete bafflement on their faces.

"Professor," said Ginny, once she had again found her voice, "if you were to check... in Gryffindor Tower... I can assure you that 'John Potter' and 'Virginia Arden' are still there. I _am _Ginny Weasley and this _is _Harry Potter."

"Professor Dumbledore," said Harry, "we need your help."

Dumbledore looked at them oddly, as though a large part of him wanted greatly to refuse and return to his chambers with a hot water pillow. And then, sleepily: "Very well, Mr Potter. Follow me."

He turned his back on them, stepped into the entrance hall and began to walk. It was a quicker walk than Harry was used to seeing on the Headmaster—that was logical, of course, as Dumbledore was quite a bit younger than usual—but there was some strange drag in his step, as though his leg were asleep.

"Where are we going?" asked Ginny.

"To the kitchens," Dumbledore said, only causing them even more confusion. "That _was_ a joke," he added slowly. "We're going to my office, of course."

They kept walking. Harry soon realised that they were heading toward not the Headmaster's office, but the Transfiguration teacher's office; Harry had forgotten that Professor Dippet had been Headmaster in nineteen forty-five.

They reached the door.

"_Every Flavour Bean_," said Dumbledore, and it was a quite random thing to say, so Harry reckoned it was the password. "I really should change that—don't particularly care for the things anymore."

As they entered what Harry thought of as McGonagall's office, Dumbledore closed the door behind them with a wave of his hand.

"All right," said Dumbledore, settling in his chair, "explain yourselves. Miss...what did you call yourself? Weasley? I have heard that name somewhere—forgive me for not being able to place it at the moment—I have not been sleeping well."

"Yes, sir."

Harry noticed that many of the silver instruments that would be in the Headmaster's office stood upon the shelves of this considerably smaller room, making the whole chamber look very cramped and precarious. If someone were to make a sudden movement, it seemed, dozens of twinkly things would crash to the floor in pieces.

"There was an accident—at the Department of Mysteries. We..." Ginny trailed off.

"Yes?" Dumbledore's auburn eyebrows were raised, clearly waiting for a chance to inquire _why _they had been in the Department of Mysteries in the middle of the night.

"We've gone—come—back in time." Harry finished for her.

Dumbledore blinked.

"You know, it's funny," he said, nodding his head slightly and not looking at them. "That was not at all what I expected you to say. I expected something along the lines of, 'We snuck out and a mysterious stranger kidnapped us and took us to the Department of Mysteries for experimenting,' which I would have then refuted with, 'They don't experiment on students in the Department of Mysteries without the Headmaster's permission.' But no, of course not, instead you say that you've come back in time. Forgive a middle-aged man's tendencies, but would you care to elaborate a bit more? " He was sitting up in the seat now, and looked a bit more awake.

"There's a huge bell jar down there. It—well—fell on us," Ginny informed him.

"Such delightful detail," said Dumbledore, nodding still. And then: "But when do you claim you're from? If someone has come back through time, usually the first claim includes _when_ they have come from—"

"Nineteen ninety-six," said Harry. He added, for lack of better detail: "June."

Dumbledore was silent a moment. He peered at the two of them, back and forth, but he didn't really seem to be looking at them at all, but rather contemplating something within himself. Then, his mind made up, he said, looking almost ashamed:

"Is he gone? Do we defeat him?"

"Who?" said Ginny.

"Voldemort?" said Harry.

"Who's Voldemort?" said Dumbledore, his eyes narrowing. "I mean Grindelwald, the Dark Lord."

Harry had, for some reason, always figured that 'Grindelwald' was pronounced the way it was spelt, having only ever seen the name on Dumbledore's chocolate frog card, in his first year. It was, apparently, pronounced 'Grindelvald,' and Harry wondered for the first time why he'd never heard anything of him, in any of his classes, or anywhere else. Hadn't the war been a major point in wizarding history? Why did no one ever speak of it?

And then, quite suddenly, Harry's mind knew why Dumbledore was so tired-looking. It did not seem the war was going very well at all.

"Oh..." said Ginny, and she glanced pointedly at Harry. He understood at once what she was trying to say: if they told Dumbledore anything about the past, or _his_ future, then it may not happen that way. Dumbledore defeated Grindelwald—in nineteen forty-five—without the help of two time-travelling teens.

"Er... we shouldn't tell you, should we...?" said Harry, and Dumbledore nodded, dismissing his question as a foolish and desperate attempt.

"Right, right, right, it would disturb the fabric of time." Dumbledore continued to nod to himself, as if to make himself believe that it was indeed for the best that they could not tell him.

"So," Dumbledore said, then: "You," he pointed at Harry, "you said your name was Potter. Are you John's son? Or was I correct about the cousin thing?"

"Er... No, Professor. My father's name was James—or, _will be_ James. And I don't even _know_ who his parents were." Harry hadn't really thought of that before—how little he knew of his ancestry.

"We need help to get back," Ginny said, then, and it was as though Dumbledore realised that he hadn't brought them to his office for a midnight chat on the trivialities of time.

"I'll... I'll see what I can do." Dumbledore stood, and it occurred to Harry once again just how _old_ Dumbledore usually was. Now, fifty years prior, he still wasn't exactly _young._ Even if he did have red hair, as opposed to silver.

"Er... Professor?" asked Ginny. "Where will we be staying?"

Harry hadn't thought of that.

"You are Gryffindors, correct?" Dumbledore asked, and at their nod, he said, "Then you'll stay in Gryffindor Tower, of course—you wouldn't be allowed anywhere else. The Head Girl and Boy are from Ravenclaw and Slytherin this year, so those two rooms are empty."

A pause, and then:

"You know the way, correct? The password is '_the Wizard of Oz_.' It's a Muggle film, you know, and I convinced the Fat Lady to watch it the other night. She thought it was _superb_."

Harry bit back a snort at the coincidence. Dumbledore looked at him curiously, but did not comment.

Soon, they left Dumbledore's office, and were on their way through the familiar corridors of Hogwarts.

——

"He's _innocent_?" Neville said, looking wide-eyed back-and-forth between Hermione and Ron as they walked. "Sirius Black is _innocent_?"

"Yeah, Nev," said Ron, "bit of a hard concept to grasp, isn't it? But at least you don't have a broken leg."

"I already apologised for that, Ron," Sirius said, though he really didn't appear to have been listening. He was looking straight ahead, as they walked to Grimmauld Place.

"So, _Stubby_," said Luna casually, walking next to Sirius, "what made you join this '_Order of the Phoenix?_' Have you ever considered reuniting the Hobgoblins?"

"I am _not _Stubby Boardman!"

They reached Grimmauld Place—once number twelve had appeared for the Order members, Ron, and Hermione, they eventually managed to steer Neville and Luna up the invisible-to-them front steps and into the door.

They heard a screech from the living room:

"_Master will not return from the Department of Mysteries!_" Kreacher was laughing as he said it—laughing fit to burst.

"Well, _someone _is clearly not being respectful of his master..." said Sirius, leading the group into the living room. Dumbledore was sitting on the couch, with Kreacher facing him.

"Master!" Kreacher abruptly spun around and bowed as low as his old frame could take. "_Terrible, terrible timing you have..._" he muttered.

"I'll deal with you later, Kreacher. Right now I need to speak with Professor Dumbledore—alone." He didn't _really _mean 'alone' of course, only 'without Kreacher.'

The aging Headmaster was staring at the line of students, his mouth hanging slightly open. His eyes flicked back and forth, as though ascertaining that he had not missed anything—or anyone.

"Where are they?" he asked, the slightest bit of panic showing through his usually calm voice.

"_When_ are they," said Hermione once again, and Ron reckoned that she liked pointing that out.

Dumbledore blinked. Again. His eyes widened and his mouth dropped open.

"Th—they're at Hogwarts."

Now it was everyone else's turn to blink.

"_What?_"

"What do you mean?" Sirius quickly inquired.

"They are at Hogwarts... in the year nineteen hundred forty-five. I remember them."

——

Harry and Ginny arrived at the Fat Lady's portrait, nearly dead from the exhaustion of the day's events, which had finally caught up with them.

"How did you two get out here?" asked the portrait. "No one's left the Tower tonight, I'm sure of it—it's not exactly common, to have no one sneak out, and I like to take note of it."

"_The Wiza-a-ar-rd of Oz_," Harry said as he unsuccessfully attempted to stifle a yawn.

The portrait opened slowly, and the Fat Lady's shrewd gaze never left the pair until they had both passed her frame.

They were on their way towards the stairs, when something red flashed at the edge of Harry's vision. He turned to it to see himself snogging Ginny, and was about to turn back—

To see _what?_

"Gin!" he grabbed her shoulder and turned her around.

"What is it Harry? I really am ti—"

Her eyes widened when she saw the couple in front of the fire. "Bloody hell."

"I'm guessing that's John Potter and Virginia Arden," observed Harry quietly.

"_You_ _think?_"

The two on the sofa jumped apart. Ginny put a hand over her mouth when she realised that she hadn't been all that quiet.

"Who's there?" came a voice that sounded remarkably like Harry's.

Harry had an idea. He walked up to his counterpart, and said in the exact tone of voice, "Who's there?"

"Seriously, who is that?" said the redhead.

Ginny walked up next to Harry, and said as best she could: "Seriously, who is that?"

"Virginia, I think we're asleep."

"Virginia, I think we're asleep." Harry hoped Ginny didn't mind him calling her by 'Virginia'—she hated it when people got her name wrong.

"Yes, you're right."

"Yes, you're right."

"Goodnight."

"Goodnight."

"Goodnight."

"Goodnight."

The four students went up to their respective dormitories, to get some much-needed sleep.

**_ Next Chapter  
Riddle Me This_**

**** "A riddle wrapped in a mystery inside an enigma" 

— Churchill  
**_  
Revised Version_**  
_**Coming Soon**_


	3. Riddle Me This

Living inside Yesterday  
_ Potter47 _

_**Part One  
The Shadow of the Past** _

"...a riddle wrapped in a mystery inside an enigma."  
— Churchill

**_ Chapter Three  
Riddle Me This_**

_"His eyes are as green as a fresh pickled toad,  
His hair is as dark as a blackboard,  
I wish he was mine, he's really divine,  
The hero who conquered the Dark Lord!"_

_The words danced and danced round and round Ginny, and she was in a cage in the circus, and little grubby dwarves were jeering at her from all directions. She covered her ears but that did nothing at all to block out the sound._

_"His eyes are as greeeeeeeeen—"_

_She swayed from side to side, her eyes clamped shut and her ears smushed against her head by her hands, and she wanted the dwarves to just go away, just—_

_"Leave me alone!" she shouted, but they did not hear._

_"—as a fresh pickled toooooooooad—"_

_"JUST SHUT UP!" she screamed, and then—quite abruptly—they did. She opened one eye, and then the other, and then removed her hands from her ears and she found that she was no longer in the cage at all, but in the Gryffindor common room, watching the fire from the comfiest sofa, and she reckoned she must have been asleep._

_But then—_

_—what was that flicker of red out of the corner of her eye?_

_She turned, slowly, hesitantly, to see herself snogging Harry._

_To see WHAT?_

_Ginny's face burned, and her ears burned, and she tried to put out the flames but she only managed to set her hands alight as well, and she began to cry and somehow the tears put out the flames and she could open her eyes and—_

_"_Ginny!_" Harry muttered, sprinting to her and dropping to his knees. "Ginny — don't be dead — please don't be dead —" He flung his wand aside, grabbed Ginny's shoulders, and turned her over. Her face was white as marble, and as cold, yet her eyes were closed, so she wasn't Petrified. But then she must be —_

_"Ginny, please wake up," Harry muttered desperately, shaking her. Ginny's head lolled hopelessly from side to side._

_"She won't wake," said a soft voice._

_Harry jumped and spun around on his knees._

_A tall, black-haired boy was leaning against the nearest pillar, watching. He was strangely blurred around the edges, as though Harry was looking at him through a misted window. But there was no mistaking him —_

_"Tom — _Tom Riddle?"

"No Gin, it's me."

Ginny's eyes snapped open, and she heard her breath rattle slightly, that first breath upon waking, the second... then she blinked, and leaned up, propping herself with her arms—no dwarves, no snogging, no fire—but there was Harry.

He was standing in the door of Ginny's room—she knew this the moment he had spoken, of course, and hadn't needed to see it—and he bore a fearful, wide-eyed expression on his face.

She wanted to say something but she didn't know what to say, so she just looked at him a minute, at the way his black hair was all messy instead of neat and perfect like Tom's had been, and she thought, also:

_What in hell _was_ that?_

She was positive that she had never, _ever _had a nightmare—or any dream, for that matter—of the Chamber from _Harry's_ point-of-view before, and although the details were quickly fading, she was quite sure that that last bit of her dream _had _been from _his_ vantage point.

"Sorry, Harry," said Ginny, finally, as she reckoned she must have woken him up. She said, then, in a tired voice: "I just had a nightmare, that's all."

But Harry didn't react the way she'd expected him to—she'd expected him to ask if she was all right now, perhaps offer her a glass of water, since he was a nice person and all, but he _didn't _do either of those things; instead, he said, in a strange voice:

"So did I." He paused, looked pensive for a moment as though in thought, and then: "With good reason."

Perhaps Ginny was simply not yet entirely awake, but she didn't understand him in the least:

"What do you mean?"

"We're in nineteen forty-five, Gin—Dumbledore even _said_ the Head Boy was a Slytherin—"

And then it clicked in her brain, and she was awake completely in a moment, the sleep gone from her eyes, and she said, so quickly that she cut him off in the words that had come before her revelation:

"You mean that Tom—"

"Yeah. Tom Riddle is here—in this school. _Right now_." He whispered the last words, as though the young Dark Lord would be able to hear them even now, and then there was a moment of silence, during which the words he had spoken sunk into both of their brains. And then, wryly: "Out of all the years that bell jar could have taken us to, it had to be..."

"You think there's a chance we won't even see him?" Ginny asked very quickly, with false optimism. "That maybe we'll get out of here before that could happen?"

"With my luck?" said Harry. He laughed a humourless laugh, which Ginny didn't like, just _didn't like,_ even if it really shouldn't have affected her all that much. Harry added: "You must be joking."

Silence. The red curtains on Ginny's four-poster shivered slightly in an imaginary wind, and Ginny suddenly couldn't quite catch her breath—_She won't wake_, said a soft voice—She saw nothing, and it saw her, and she had to blink and blink and blink before she could even tell she was blinking and then it went away. She took a deep breath, and then:

"You said you had a nightmare too?"

"Yeah," he said, nodding. "It was—I was in the Chamber of Secrets, you know, like in second year—your first year—"

Like I don't remember when it happened—

He continued, oblivious: "You were on the ground, cold as ice. And he was just _standing _there—Riddle, I mean." He paused, and shook his head slightly. "You have no idea how _frustrating_ it was, him just leaning against a—a whatever, a pillar—calm, not a care in the world—"

Ginny stared at him, could not look away, for more than one reason—

First there was the initial reaction, the reflexive thought that she could not help herself thinking: _He thinks HE had it bad that year...?_

And then, she thought of that cold, lonely, echoing place, and the cold stone ground and—and she thought of the dream that she had just awoken from, and she said:

"But I do." A pause, and she glanced back at her pillow, as though the image of her night-terror would still be emblazoned upon its soft surface. She added: "I just dreamt the same thing."

His gaze—which had been unfocused, and directed toward the ground—focused on her, suddenly, so quick that his neck surely must have hurt from it, and his eyes widened and he said, in a hard voice:

"What?"

"I don't know how," Ginny began, so that he didn't expect some sort of explanation from her, "but I just had a dream of the Chamber—of Secrets, of course—from _your _perspective. I saw myself on the ground, you were saying something like, 'please don't be dead, Ginny please don't be dead.' And Tom said,"—the three words chilled her to the bone as she said them aloud: "'She won't wake.'"

Ginny smiled wryly, then, and said, "Then I woke up."

Harry bit his lip, and shook his head slightly. "That's... _odd._"

They were silent for a long time, and the night sky outside the lone window began to turn a deep, dark purple, signalling the sunrise. Ginny blinked twice—had they only slept an hour or two? It certainly seemed that way, as it had to have been well past midnight before.

"We should try to get some more sleep," Harry said, reading her thoughts.

"I don't think I'm going to be able to," said Ginny, and she recalled her dream, and her cheeks turned red along with her ears—she thought of the couple that they had seen in the common room, and wondered about them. All they were to her was a pair of names... and two remarkably familiar faces.

Harry seemed to be in deep concentration as well, but Ginny very much doubted it was for the same reasons. She watched him silently, and then after a long while he turned to her and said:

"Ginny, what—what happened, when Grindelwald was in power?"

Ginny blinked—she had not been expecting that question at all. She took a breath, and said:

"No one ever told you?" A pause, and then: "Well, that's not all that surprising, though, is it?"

—— 

In Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place, no one spoke for a long, long time—each person was thinking very different thoughts, and no one could quite find the words they wished to voice aloud.

Ron was thinking about how sudden everything had been—one moment, they had all been full of adrenaline, searching for whatever it was that Harry needed to find, and then in just a few moments... everything changed.

Hermione was thinking about a book she'd read back in third year, about time-travel. She had read... she had read that if someone went back in time... oh what had it been...?

Luna was trying to figure why Ginny had never told her that she knew Stubby Boardman—but then she wasn't going to hold it against her. Luna glanced at Ron when he wasn't looking, and then decided to make it a stare instead.

And then, finally, Lupin broke the silence:

"How do you _know_ that—that they're in nineteen-fo—?" he said, looking at Dumbledore, and shaking his head. "How on earth do you—" And then, having been broken, the silence left for good.

"You remember it, don't you?" said Tonks, then, biting her lip and watching Dumbledore's face. "You were there, and you remember them showing up."

Dumbledore blinked, as if he had been caught in a reverie, and finally looked up. He said: "Yes, Nymphadora."

Tonks winced at the sound of her given name—

"Oh, come now Nymphadora," said Dumbledore, his eyes back to twinkling, now, and his mouth forming a little smirk. "Fear of a name only increases fear of the thing itself, you know—how _terrified_ you must be of yourself..."

Lupin snorted, but the rest did not react much to the joke.

"How do we get them back?" asked Sirius now, and although this was all he had thought about during the silence, he had not inched any closer to a solution.

"We don't, Sirius," said Dumbledore, and he glanced then at his wristwatch. "They must find their way back themselves." And then: "The students and I had better be off—Hogwarts will be missing us."

——

"Grindelwald..." began Ginny, looking quite far-away in her own mind as though attempting to recall something long forgotten, "Grindelwald was, Dad said, once, he said: 'Grindelwald was the worst thing anyone could imagine, anyone wanted to imagine'—of course, Voldemort came along and proved everyone wrong, but no one wanted to imagine that happening. But Grindelwald was..." Ginny shook her head, unable to find the words. "I wasn't there, obviously, and I..."

"But what _happened?_" said Harry, impatiently. Ginny narrowed her eyes at him.

"I was getting to it, Harry, can't you see I'm trying?" And Harry felt bad for his insistence, but no less curious.

"I was _saying_," said Ginny primly, and she crossed her arms round her chest as though she were cold, "Grindelwald was... really bad." She sort of half-smiled. "That's not a great way to put it, but he was. No one... no one likes to talk about it, really. You wouldn't get much more out of someone who was actually there. But... from what I've heard, it was just like it was now, except worse because there was a Muggle war on at the same time, that... that Lither person—"

"Hitler," corrected Harry.

"You know about it? Then why are you—"

"All I know are the basics," said Harry. "Hitler killed a lot of people, concentration camps, all the bombings, like in London. But I dunno any of the details, they don't tell you much in Primary school—"

"Well they tell you even less if your Mum's the one teaching you," said Ginny grimly. "I really don't know too much about it, only that it was really, really bad—well, and that Dumbledore defeated him. No one goes into any details, but... I remember that Dad said his... great-aunt, was it? I dunno... she was killed horribly, that was the last Weasley woman till me—he found her, he said..." She bit her lip, and shook her head to clear the image. "He didn't go into details, though, no one does, like I said—it's sort of like the wizarding world's dirty secret, when you think about it. _No_ one talks about it, they pretend like it never happened, and—"

She fell into silence then, and she just was looking somewhere, just staring at nothing in particular. Then she said: "That was odd."

And Harry didn't have a chance to ask _what _was odd, because at that moment his scar burst into flames.

"AAAHH!"

Harry was on the floor, now, his hands on his head, pressing harder and harder onto his scar to try to ease the pain, but it didn't help, it didn't help at all, and he was—

—all right now.

_That was odd,_ he thought to himself.

He breathed oddly for a moment and then realised that his eyes were closed, so he opened them; he realised that he was on his back, so he got up into a sitting position; he realised that Ginny's hand was on his arm, so he looked at her.

"What happened?" she said, eyes wide in fear.

"Scar," said Harry, rubbing the offending mark with the arm she was not holding.

"Is it all right now? Or does it still hurt?" she asked, and Harry noticed that she was very close to him—which made sense as she was holding his arm—but still struck him quite strongly for some reason.

"No, it stopped," he said, and he blinked a moment and breathed in and out once again. He shook his head, and said, "He was confused," in a strange voice that surprised himself.

Ginny did not need to ask who he meant.

She seemed to tighten her grip on his arm, then, moving her hand up to his shoulder, and said, "But does that mean_ now_... or then?"

That was a good question; if his scar hurt him now, in nineteen forty-five, did that mean that Tom Riddle was feeling particularly emotional, or that _Voldemort _did, back in ninety-six?

"I dunno," he said, and he noticed that she was rubbing his arm now—he didn't think she even realised she was doing it, as though it was just something her hands did when she was thinking about other things. It felt good, really—and although his arm hadn't hurt him before, it felt better now for some reason.

And then, a moment later, she offered her other hand to him, and said, "No reason to stay on the floor all day," and helped him up, although he was slightly reluctant; her touch had felt good, again, and he didn't like seeing it go. Suddenly all his other joints ached as well, and he thought that perhaps they had been doing so all along and he just hadn't noticed.

"Thanks..." he said, and he meant it very much, "Gin."

"You're welcome," she said, and she smiled at him. They held each other's gazes for a moment, and Harry felt suddenly very thankful that it had been Ginny that the bell jar had fallen on with him—there was just something calming in her presence. And she _understood_, didn't she? It was an almost selfish feeling, but no one else _should _have been there in that year, because no one else had met Tom Riddle before, had been in the Chamber—_they _were the ones that had gone through it all, _they _were the ones that deserved to be—

It startled Harry that he was thinking of the time-travel as an _accomplishment_—surely just a few moments ago he had felt that he would rather be anywhere else in the world? It was a strange, strange feeling, and Harry wondered what it—as well as the mysterious pain in his scar—meant.

——

Dumbledore emerged last from the fireplace in his office at the school; Hermione, Ron, Luna and Neville had gone through before him, and just as soon as the bearded wizard appeared, a rousing chorus rung out from the walls:

"You're back to stay?"

"Could it be true?"

"Ha! Told you he'd be back before summer, Dippet!"

"I'll speak with all of you later," Dumbledore told the former headmasters, gesturing to the four students.

"Right, sir, I anxiously await the tale—"

The group left the office amongst all the delighted murmurings of the portraits.

"If you could just stay in your common rooms for the time being," Dumbledore told them as they stood upon the moving staircase—Luna walked back up a couple steps once or twice to prolong the journey; "I believe that a certain Professor needs rescuing from a herd of centaurs."

And he disappeared off down a corridor as soon as they had reached the bottom.

"He's going to save _Umbridge_?" said Ron disbelievingly. "Harry and Ginny are missing and he's going into the forest for that bloody _cow_? Don't you think that—"

Hermione cut him off: "How did he know that the centaurs had Umbridge?" Her head was tilted to one side as she stared off after Dumbledore.

That was a good question, and like all good questions—and some of the more obscure bad ones—they had no idea of the answer.

"Let's go," Hermione added, then. "It'd be best to get into Gryffindor Tower before everyone wakes up..."

They began the journey, and before anyone knew it, they had parted ways with Luna and reached the portrait of the Fat Lady—they had all been too deep in their own thoughts to even notice the passing of footsteps, and Ron—muttering something along the lines of "How in the bloody hell are they gonna get back here?"—nearly walked straight into the portrait. The Fat Lady looked affronted.

Hermione said the password, "_Fata viam invenient,_" but the Fat Lady didn't hear; she was too busy trying to think of words to properly snap back at Ron with—

"_Fata viam invenient_," said Hermione again, louder and beginning to get frustrated—the Fat Lady finally noticed her, and swung wide rather quickly, as though hoping to strike Ron with the edge of her frame.

The common room, not surprisingly, was empty. Hermione—suddenly overcome with fatigue—walked straight to the girls' stairs, yawning and stretching, and went up quickly. The two boys went towards the opposite stair, after a moment.

——

Harry and Ginny got up properly a long while later—after what was probably a few hours of silence and staring out-of-windows—having waited until the common room had fully cleared out. They weren't looking forward to confronting John and Virginia once again, especially not in broad, uninhibited daylight.

They walked very carefully on their way to Dumbledore's office, making sure not to complicate the whole mess by running into anyone that they should not run into; they double-checked round corners before turning, and tried not to take any of the main routes through the castle.

Finally, after much ado, they arrived at his office door.

Harry spoke the password quietly, so that no one in any of the surrounding rooms would hear him (although they were very unlikely to do so anyway): "_Every Flavour Bean._"

It took Harry a moment to realise that the door did not open.

"_Every Flavour Bean_," he asserted again, a bit confused, but then Ginny remembered:

"He said he needed to change the password, remember?" she said. She shook her head. "Why did he have to do it _already?_"

"He's Dumbledore," said Harry. "How would I know how his mind works?"

An uncomfortable silence rung through the empty corridor, and Harry felt incredibly visible. He looked back and forth without realising, unconsciously making sure no one was looking.

Ginny knocked on the office door a few times—each reverberated quite loudly, in Harry's opinion—but there was no answer. Either Dumbledore wasn't inside, or he couldn't hear.

"What are we supposed to do now?" Ginny said. "Do we go back to—"

Harry had an idea, and although he didn't know if it was a good one, it was the best he had; after all, if Dumbledore's office was what Harry thought of as _McGonagall's _office, then surely Dumbledore's classroom...?

He walked, in some absurd attempt at a spy's stealthy movements, to the door of the Transfiguration classroom—carefully, he turned the knob, and opened the door just enough to peer inside. He shut it abruptly, so that no one would notice the excursion.

"_He's_ _teaching!_" he hissed to Ginny, who was somehow by his side already. "It looked like sixth- or seventh-years—"

"Should we wait for him, then?" said Ginny. "I mean, the class'll be over eventually, and then we can get in while nobody's paying attention—"

Harry shook his head. "But if we wait out here, Filch's sure to catch us—well, whoever it is now, anyway. We'd better... er..."

"Go inside?" Ginny finished, and Harry nodded. They were both hesitant, of course, for the same reason; if these _were_ seventh years, then it would be quite likely that Tom Riddle would be among them, and...

Then Ginny said: "We might as well, right? I mean, no one'll recognise us—they'll think we're whatever-their-names-are—"

Harry nodded; that did make sense.

"—and we could pretend like we had to deliver a message to Dumbledore or something."

And then Harry thought, just as Ginny confidently opened the door, that while this was all well and good, a better plan would have been to hide in a broom closet until Dumbledore's class had let out. They _didn't _have anything particular to say to the headmaster—er, Transfiguration professor—anyway, did they? They just wanted to know what to do—

But it was too late. Ginny had already entered the room, and Harry had no choice but to follow her. Every eye in the class jumped up to them immediately, including Dumbledore's own, and she sort of stopped in her tracks at the abrupt attention.

"Yes?" said Dumbledore, over what looked like a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore—"_Magickal Malevolence," _the cover read—and he seemed to peer into the two of them deeply, even from across the room.

"Er," said Ginny, "um. We—we had a message—"

"What, did you lose it?" said one of the students, and a few others laughed.

"Yes?" said Dumbledore again, raising his eyebrows. As Ginny continued to flounder for words, he added: "Perhaps you'd like to wait in my office, then? I'm sure a sugar quill or two will get that kneazle right off your tongue... help yourselves to the stash on the desk." He said the words rather meaningfully, and smiled at them pleasantly.

Harry blinked, still standing in the doorway, and a moment later Ginny turned round to leave—

—only to stop sharply as her eyes fell on something. Harry turned to see what it was, and he froze in place as well.

Sitting in the front row of desks, was a tall, black-haired boy, who stared wide-eyed from Ginny, to Harry, and back. He seemed completely uncomprehending, as though he had just seen a ghost lay down on the ground and play dead; something seemed to very much _not click_ in the boy's head.

"Tom..."

Harry was not sure whether Ginny had said the word aloud or he had thought it, or _she _had thought it and he had heard it, which seemed just as likely, for some reason; the three of them, Harry, Ginny, and Riddle stared at each other in a twisted sort of triangle, and it was only when Dumbledore spoke once again that the gaze was broken:

"Ten minutes till the end of the class period," the professor said, "please finish up your essays—"

Riddle blinked, and returned his gaze to his completed essay, and he seemed to be fervently forcing himself not to look up once again.

_Someone_, it seemed, did not believe that they were John Potter and Virginia Arden.

Harry and Ginny hastily continued their way out the door.

"Sugar quill," said Ginny to Dumbledore's office door, and the two of them entered rather numbly, and sat down before the desk; Harry's gaze fell on the tray of crystalline candies, and could not imagine attempting to consume one.

"Did he _recognise_ us?" said Harry after a moment.

"I dunno how, but it certainly seemed like it."

A million thoughts raced through Harry's head as he sat there, waiting. How could Tom Riddle have recognised them? It made no sense whatsoever—unless, of course, Riddle had travelled through time and spotted the two of them, which Harry did not find particularly likely.

They sat in the office, mostly just thinking, and occasionally one of them would voice a thought aloud; they found no answers, however. After what felt a very long while, they heard the bell ring, and Dumbledore came through the door adjoining the classroom to the office.

He sat down opposite them, and said in that tired voice of his: "What was that, may I ask?"

"What was what?"

"Your staring contest with our Head Boy. Do you know him, in your time?" Dumbledore had a curious look in his eye.

"We've... we've _met,_" said Harry, and as he said it, images flashed through his head: _turban, Chamber, graveyard, Cedric, Quirrell, diary, Mirror, dome_—

"A few times," he added.

"I probably should not ask more, of course." Dumbledore straightened the half-moon spectacles on his nose. Harry remembered how Dumbledore had always been suspicious of Riddle. "As for your situation... as I'm sure you have come asking what can be done... I have no answer at this time. I do not know how to get you back, if indeed, you _can _go back. I did do a bit of thinking on the subject, and I plan to look into it more fully; however:

"For now, you should just lay low. Obviously, you will not attend any classes, as that would arouse far too much suspicion. I will contact you if and when I make any advancements, although for now, I am... a bit preoccupied with very important matters—"

"Grindelwald," said Ginny.

"Yes, Grindelwald," said Dumbledore, nodding. "Good to see you can say his name, Miss Weasley—there are not many who dare it." He paused. "Times are very dark right now, my young friends. The two wars have reached a fever pitch, and the Muggle terrors are becoming even worse than the wizard ones. There is... much still to do, and I do need to devote my time—"

"I guess there's no need to hurry," said Harry then, realising it was a bit of a selfish thing to think that Dumbledore would take much time out of his schedule to help two teenage wizards return to their own time when there was a war on. Harry added wryly: "After all, we have all the time in the world, don't we?"

——

Next morning, Ron awoke far earlier than he would have liked—of course, he would have liked to stay in bed till the holidays began—and he found himself awake only a little later than usual despite his ungodly bedtime. But it seemed unlikely that he could reclaim slumber within the near future.

Ron could easily notice the absence of his best mate—the snoring level in the fifth year dormitory was noticeably low. In fact, Ron was pretty sure that Neville was also awake, because he was—normally—even louder than Harry was.

So, Ron sat up in bed, opened the curtain that surrounded the four poster, and saw that Neville's bed was indeed empty. Neither of them had had much sleep, then.

Ron wondered if Harry and Ginny had gotten any sleep at all—they might be wandering somewhere, looking for somewhere to go, to rest, and Ron abruptly felt guilty for being ungrateful for the sleep he _had _got.

Ron got out of bed, then, and made his way toward the stairs—passing Harry's vacant bed, he realised that Harry had basically nothing with him—his wand, and the robes on his back, that was it; no invisibility cloak, no map...

No food.

Ron's stomach growled mightily; he hadn't eaten anything for a long while. Walking down the stairs, he wondered if Hermione was up to a trip to the kitchens, as it was well after breakfast and surely everyone would already be about on the grounds, enjoying the peace after exams.

Neville and Hermione, Ron found, were both in the common room before the needless, heatless fire—Hermione was mumbling under her breath as she looked at a parchment., and Neville stared at her, as though she was insane.

"What's up?" asked Ron, walking up to the two.

"She's going over the OWLs. Has been for hours. Don't think it's a very good idea to disturb her," Neville told him.

"Signs to identify a werewolf... one... the snout..." Hermione was biting her nails as she went over the parchment in her hand.

Ron walked in front of her, and waved his hand in front of her face. She didn't seem to notice. He wondered if she had even noticed Neville.

"Hermione?" he asked cautiously.

She did not acknowledge him in any way.

He raised a hand, and slowly moved it toward the parchment.

Neville's eyes grew wide. "No—don't Ron—she'll kill you," he warned.

"Nonsense."

He grabbed the sheet and pulled it away from her. Neville ducked.

At once, Hermione's expression turned to pure anger, and even as she toppled backward off the chair in surprise, she pulled her wand.

"_Accio!_" She caught the parchment, stood up, and glared.

"How _dare _you! You _prat!_ What _possible _reason did you have to _do_ that?" Her gaze was deadly, and, from Neville's point of view, intimidating, even from its position at a foot below Ron's.

"I'm hungry," said Ron. "You wanna go down and ask the house elves for breakfast?"

"Are you _insane?_ You come down here—interrupt me—and—and—for _food?_ No!" She seemed to be fighting the urge to hex him, and her conscience probably would not hold out long—

"What were you doing, anyway? We finished OWLs—"

"I _know _we finished the OWLs, Ron, I am simply going over them."

He looked at her blankly. "_Why?_"

"Because I _want to! _Leave me alone!" She sat back down, and locked her gaze back on the paper, and her eyes travelled back and forth, back and forth determined to continue pouring over the papers...

Ron looked at her, and quite forcibly it hit him why she was obsessing like this: she was worried, and when she worried, she revised. This was the closest thing to revising she could do now, what with classes finished—

"I'm sorry," Ron said then, and he meant it. He added, softly: "I miss them, too."

She lowered the parchment, and he could see now that her eyes were red, and all blotchy; she had been crying. She spoke in a very soft voice:

"We all do."

**_ Next Chapter  
See If You're Human After All _**

"Memory is the diary that we all carry about with us."  
— Wilde **__**

Revised Version  
Coming Soon 


	4. See if You're Human After All

Living inside Yesterday  


_Potter47 ****_

~Part One~  
The Shadow of the Past

"Memory is the diary that we all carry about with us."   
~ Wilde

__

****

~ Chapter Four ~  
See If You're Human After All 

Harry and Ginny were back in their rooms, atop Gryffindor Tower. They did not have anything better to do. 

__

What is one supposed to do when transported through time? Harry pondered in his mind. _Probably try to get back to where one started, right? How?_

That was where they were stuck. They had no idea how to get back. Hell, even _Dumbledore_ had no idea how to get them back, and he's supposed to be the greatest sorcerer in the world.

That triggered something in Harry's brain. 

__

"You're not," he had said.

__

"Not what?" 

__

"Not the greatest sorcerer in the world," said Harry, breathing fast. "Sorry to disappoint you and all that, but the greatest wizard in the world is Albus Dumbledore. Everyone says so..."

Harry kept having these flashbacks. Every few minutes, some train of thought would trigger something. A memory of the Chamber. He could only imagine how much worse it must be for Ginny, who had known Tom Riddle for an entire year, not just one day.

Ginny. Were there any coincidences in Harry's life? It seemed as though Fate had decided that the two who had a past, in the past, had to live through it again. Harry shook his head. Even his thoughts made no sense.

Though it did get him wondering. _What if it had not been Ginny that had come with him to the past? What if it had been Ron? Or Luna? Neville or Hermione?_

He almost laughed at the thought of Hermione being transported to this time. He could just imagine, "_Well, at least we finished our OWLs..._" 

"What?" 

Ginny stood in his doorway, leaning against one side of the frame. "Did you just say, 'At least we finished our OWLs? I didn't take OWLs, remember?" 

Harry realised he must have been thinking aloud. "No, I was just thinking out loud. Didn't even notice you were here. Hermione probably would have said that, if she had come back here."

"Right," she nodded. "Try developing an _inner monologue_," she suggested.

"Right."

"You hungry?" she asked. "We could go down to the kitchens. I'm starved."

Harry suddenly realised that he was indeed hungry. When was the last time he had eaten?

"Yeah, I'm hungry, too."

They went down the stairs and, thankfully, found an empty common room. The corridor was also empty, and they made their way down toward the kitchens...

...which were _not _empty.

There was one human occupant in the room below the Great Hall. One, black-haired occupant, who looked oddly like Harry. Exactly the person they did _not _want to run into.

"What do we do?" asked Ginny hurriedly, as the two stood behind a large cabinet.

"I have _no _clue -"

"Mr. Potter! Miss Arden!" A small house elf, a few inches shorter than Dobby, stood in front of the two, successfully exposing their presence. Riddle's gaze flew from the food in his raised hand, to the cabinet where they had been hiding. His eyes never left Harry's face. _There was almost a hungry look in them._

__

"Little Ginny's been writing in it for months and months, telling me all her pitiful worries and woes - how her brothers tease_ her, how she had to come to school with second-hand robes, how -" _Riddle's eyes had glinted, _"how she didn't think the famous, good, great Harry Potter would _ever_ like her...."_

Harry once again shook himself out of his thoughts. He wished he would stop doing that.

"What would you like Mr. Potter? Miss Arden?" the elf bobbed at their knees. 

"Er..." said Harry, "just some sandwiches."

"Who _are_ you?" said Riddle. He stood up and came closer to them. "You are _not_ Potter and Arden, I know that. I've caught those two out at night far too many times. They don't move like you, they act differently. You seem to be more...cautious...yes that's it. Cautious."

Harry swallowed. He was sure it must have been audible. He looked to Ginny, to see if she had any idea of how to deal with the current situation.

Ginny did in fact seem to have a plan. Harry was not sure it was exactly the _best _of plans, but it was a plan.

"You do not know, Tom?" she asked innocently.

"How would I know?" asked the future Dark Lord.

"Well," she said, "I thought that you were the Head Boy, and all. I would have thought you would know who most of the students were." She looked between the two black-haired boys. "Especially the ones who have _uncanny _resemblances to yourself."

Harry had absolutely no idea what Ginny was planning on doing.

"I _do _know most of the students," said Riddle. "And I do _not _know you two. Who are you?" He almost seemed nervous. As though the two of them _scared _him. Harry blinked, and was sure he had imagined the moment of weakness.

The Riddle that stood before Harry did seem quite unlike the one from the diary in Harry's second year. That Riddle had been fully confident, and sure that he could not fail. This Riddle that Harry was looking at...he seemed more..._human_. Harry never thought he would be describing the Dark Lord with the term _human._ It did not usually fit.

Ginny smiled sweetly. "I'm Ginny. This is Harry. Pleased to meet you." She held out her hand. Harry was now sure that Ginny was the best actress that he had ever seen. This was the boy that had possessed her...made her open the Chamber of Secrets. And she was going to shake his hand? She was acting absolutely _friendly_ to the future Dark Lord.

He stared at it, brow furrowed, as though unsure what she expected him to do. She slowly pulled it back.

"Right..." she said. "Well, now you know who we are, we know who you are, and that house elf is going to hurt itself if you don't take those sandwiches soon, Harry."

He jumped, turned around, and took the sandwiches from the elf, whom was slowly rocking back and forth, waiting. "Thanks," he muttered.

Both the elf and Riddle stared at Harry. "Thanks?" asked the elf. "No one has _ever _said _thanks_ to...to _Wobbly_ before! You are a great wizard Mr. Potter! A truly great wizard!"

Harry winced. If this elf lived in the same time as Dobby, he was sure they would start HEAP, or House Elves Adoring Potter.

Riddle was still staring at him. The cold gaze lowered to Harry's robes, and Riddle started to nod. "Of course. A Gryffindor. Who else would _thank _a house elf?"

"A good person, Tom," said Ginny. "A good person would thank a house elf." She thought for a moment. "Dumbledore would thank a house elf."

Riddle's posture straightened. He turned to Ginny.

"Well, _Ginny,_ Dumbledore's a fool. He still thinks that Hagrid was innocent."

"What?" asked Ginny. "Innocent?"

"The Chamber of Secrets, idiot. Where have you been? Hagrid opened the Chamber two years ago." 

"And you got a 'Special Award for Services to the School,' two years ago, correct?" said Harry. "For catching him?"

Riddle turned to Harry. "How on earth did you know that?" 

"I got one too." _Why am I saying this? He's probably going to kill us if I say this._

"For what?" 

__

Stop talking!

"Catching _you_."

* * *

Professor Snape sat at the high table, in the Great Hall, of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. He had been informed of the events of the previous night. That Potter and the Weasley girl had been transported back through time. He knew what that meant. 

The wizarding world was short one saviour. Word could not get out. Panic would break loose.

Like that would happen. The wizarding world didn't give a damn about Potter anymore. They thought he was insane. Sure, some had been convinced by his interview in the _Quibbler_, but not all. They did not know that they were all but doomed if Potter could not get back. They did not know of the prophecy. Not many people did. But Severus Snape sure knew. He knew better than anybody.

And for now, he was in charge of Hogwarts. Ha. That's what the Ministry thought at least. They did not know that Dumbledore was back in Hogwarts, sitting in his office, just like always. They did not know that while Snape was sitting in the headmaster's chair, because of the absence of McGonagall and Umbridge, that he was most certainly not running the school. 

__

Incompetent fools. The lot of them.

* * *

"_Snape's _in charge?" said a clearly outraged Ron, when he, Hermione and Neville sat down at breakfast. "Where's Dumbledore?"

"Ron, _think_." Hermione almost laughed at the idiocy of that statement. "Dumbledore's still on the run from the Ministry. Snape's next in line after McGonagall, since he's the Potions Master. What did you expect?"

Ron answered only by buttering his toast.

"Dumbledore's probably in his office. He's probably still in charge, just not publicly. Don't worry, it's not as though Snape's going to be unfair since he's supposedly headmaster for now."

"Of course he is!" said Ron. "He's Snape!"

"Just because he's Snape doesn't mean he's unfair."

"Yes it does!"

"You are an idiot! Snape had been working for Dumbledore for how long? Fifteen years? He's a member of the Order of the Phoenix. Dumbledore trusts him. _Stop_ treating him like he's evil!"

"But he is!"

She stuffed the toast in his hand into his mouth. He choked.

"What the hell was that for?"

"For being an incompetent nincompoop!"

"What?" 

"Exactly!"

At the head table, something quite unexpected happened. The Potions Master snorted.

* * *

Riddle's eyes blazed. "You _what?_"

Harry decided that he couldn't very well take it back now. "I caught you."

"Caught me doing _what_, exactly?" Riddle took a small step forward. He seemed to have an idea. Not too good for Harry, since he had no such thing.

"Opening the Chamber. Framing Hagrid. Killing Myrtle. Setting the basilisk on the Muggle-borns." Harry met his eyes unblinkingly. Ginny was sure that her companion had lost his mind.

"I _knew _something was different about you! You're from the future aren't you?" 

He glanced between the two pairs of eyes, and seemed to read an answer.

"Well," he said, taking another small step forward, "you most _certainly_, will _not_ be going back."

Riddle grabbed Ginny's arm, pulled his wand, and called, "_Tempus Fugit!_"

Pain coursed through Harry's head. He fell to his knees, his hands gripping his forehead. His scar had not hurt so badly in quite a while...if ever. It was as though a part of him had been ripped away, and his head was slowly following.

After a few moments, the pain lessened...not by much...but Harry could open his eyes. 

A feeling of dread began to build inside of him. He was alone. Riddle was gone. Ginny was...

__

And where was Ginny?

He pulled his wand and moved forward between the serpentine columns. Every careful footstep echoed loudly off the shadowy walls. He kept his eyes narrowed, ready to clamp them shut at the smallest sign of movement. The hollow eye sockets of the stone snakes seemed to be following him. More than once, with a jolt of the stomach, he thought he saw one stir.

Then, as he drew level with the last of the pillars, a statue high as the Chamber itself loomed into view, standing against the back wall. 

Harry had to crane his neck to look up at the giant face above: It was ancient and monkeyish, with a long, thin beard that fell almost to the bottom of the wizard's sweeping stone robes, where two enormous grey feet stood on the smooth Chamber floor. And between the feet, facedown, lay a small black-robed figure with flaming-red hair. 

Harry most certainly did not need to see that right now. Ginny had disappeared. _Again_. He needed to find her. _Again_. Riddle had her. _Again_.

Deja vu was becoming a common occurrence for Harry Potter.

If Harry had not been Hermione's best friend for five years, he would have been positive that they had disapparated.

But you could not apparate _or _disapparate, on Hogwarts grounds. Even in nineteen forty-five.

And they had disappeared. Vanished. Gone. Nowhere to be found.

And it was _entirely _Harry's fault.

* * *

"The headmaster would like to speak to you, and Weasley, after breakfast," said Professor Snape, leaning slightly, and speaking in a whisper. "The _real _headmaster, of course."

"Okay," said Hermione. "Do you think he had an idea about how to get them back? Professor?" she asked.

Snape looked at her oddly. "How would I know, Miss Granger?" he asked. "If he told me, why would you need to see him? That was a stupid question."

She looked down at her plate. "Sorry, Professor."

"The password is, '_Nil Desperandum._' Fitting, don't you agree?" He raised an eyebrow.

"Yes."

He stalked away, robes billowing behind him. It seemed odd to Hermione that anyone could be fooled into believing he was the Headmaster. He did not act the part at all.

She turned her eyes back to her food when she realised she had been staring. Ron was sitting next to her still, and seemed to be thinking something over in his mind.

"What?" she asked.

"What did he mean? _Nil Desperandum?_" His face bore a puzzled expression, as it so often did.

"Do you know _anything, _Ron?" she asked. 

He didn't respond all that quickly.

"No?" she asked, an eyebrow raised.

"I know some things!" he said defiantly.

"Yeah," Neville, who had been quiet since Snape's appearance, piped up. "He knows loads about Quidditch."

Hermione had a smug look on her face.

"Not _helping_, Neville," Ron hissed.

"Sorry."

"It's Latin, Ron," she said, as if it were obvious. Actually, it _was_. 

"Yeah?" Ron gestured for her to continue.

"_'Nil Desperandum'_ means 'Never despair.' You really should know that. Most spells are Latin. And that's a common phrase."

He looked incredulous. "_Snape _said _that?_"

**_

~ Author's Note ~  
  


_**The 'Tempus Fugit' spell is from B.L. Purdom's 'Psychic Serpent' series.  
Read that if you want to know what happened to Riddle and Ginny.  
  
On second thought, read that anyway. It's better than this.  
  
**~ Next Chapter ~  
Riddles in the Dark  
  
**"This thing all things devours:  
Birds, beasts, trees, flowers;  
Gnaws iron, bites steel;  
Grinds hard stones to meal;  
Slays king, ruins town,  
And beats high mountain down.  
~ Tolkien **_  
~ Coming Soon ~  
_**


	5. Riddles in the Dark

Living inside Yesterday  
_ Potter47 ** ~ Part One ~  
The Shadow of the Past ** _ "This thing all things devours:  
Birds, beasts, trees, flowers;  
Gnaws iron, bites steel;  
Grinds hard stones to meal;  
Slays king, ruins town,  
And beats high mountain down."  
~ Tolkien **_ ~ Chapter Five ~   
Riddles in the Dark _**

__

"The Heir of Slytherin," said Professor McGonagall, who was very white, "left another message. Right underneath the first one. 'Her skeleton will lie in the Chamber forever.'"

Professor Flitwick burst into tears.

"Who is it?" said Madam Hooch, who had sunk, weak-kneed, into a chair. "Which student?"

"Ginny Weasley..."

Ginny...

Gin...

Harry's eyes flew open. He was sitting there, on the floor of the kitchen, surrounded by house elves. They all looked dreadfully worried, obviously not used to students collapsing on the floor. This was the kind of thing that happened _upstairs!_

They were not sure what to do, so they just watched as Harry regained consciousness. Actually, he wasn't sure if he _had_ fainted in first place. It may just have been another memory.

That day...when Ginny had been taken into the Chamber...Harry had felt horrible. Dreadful. It was the worst day of Harry's life, he remembered thinking.

But the feeling in his chest, now, when Ginny had been taken again...it was worse than the Cruciatus Curse. 

Harry had not _known _Ginny in his second year. He only thought of her as Ron's little sister, if he thought of her at all. But now...

He didn't know what he thought. He just knew that it felt as though his heart had been mercilessly cut from his chest, and sliced into twelve individual portions. If he had just kept his stupid mouth _closed..._

Harry still was on the floor. The elves still stared. They must have thought him insane.

__

I probably am_ insane_, thought Harry. _I certainly don't have a healthy mind._

Harry finally got up off the floor. He couldn't just sit there all day. He needed to do something.

He felt even worse than he had the day prior, when he saw Sirius being tortured by Voldemort. Then he could do something. He knew where Sirius _was_.

Did..._will_...Sirius get away? 

__

No. No. No. No. Not something good to think about. Ginny. Need to save Ginny...

Pain once again seared through his head. But unlike before, he saw something.

Only for a second...but he saw something.

Ginny. He saw Ginny. She was screaming, obviously in pain. Probably Cruciatus...

__

No. _Ginny doesn't deserve that. Where is she? _Harry asked himself. He had only seen her face, none of her surroundings. He had no clue where she could be...

...and yet he knew exactly where she was.

There was no other answer. No other possible place that she might have been taken. Fate _clearly _wasn't done playing with their heads.

She was in the Chamber.

* * *

__

"Nil Desperandum," Hermione said to the stone gargoyle that hid the entrance to the headmaster's office.

"We most certainly should _not_." Albus Dumbledore stood right at the bottom of the steps. His eyes were twinkling, and he was smiling.

"Follow me." 

They all stepped onto the moving stair, and it slowly took them up to his office door. It was torture for the two students. He clearly had good news, from his manner, and he was making them wait until they reached the top of the seemingly endless stairway before he told them what it was.

__

Finally, thought Hermione as the two students and Headmaster stepped off at the top of the wizarding escalator, _I thought it was going to take all day._

They walked through the open door, and each took a seat inside the circular room. Dumbledore smiled at them.

"They're gone."

"_What?_" said both Ron and Hermione.

"No, I don't mean they are _gone. _I simply mean they are no longer at Hogwarts in nineteen forty five," he assured.

"How do you know that?" asked Ron, quizzically.

"I remembered. They were only there - then - for one day. I met them at the front doors, they went to Gryffindor Tower, I met them the next day, and then..."

"What?" asked Hermione.

"They disappeared. I never saw them again. I assume that they found some way out of that time."

"Then where are they?" asked Ron. "I mean, _when_, are they."

"I do not know yet. I don't remember seeing them again. If I _did_ see them again, then right now, they are somewhere in between the last time I saw them in nineteen forty five, and the first time I saw them in whatever year they went to next."

"And this is..._good_...news, right?" asked Ron.

"Yes. Because they obviously figured out how to travel to another time. It's only a matter of time until they find their way back to now," Hermione said.

"Yes, Miss Granger," said Dumbledore. "It is only a matter of time."

* * *

Harry had hoped, ever since his second year, that he never would have to visit Moaning Myrtle's bathroom again. It held too many bad memories.

Of course, it seemed as though that was all that Harry's life was. Bad memories.

From his very first memory, he had always been miserable. The Dursley's had treated him as if he were a bug that just wouldn't _die_. Or a dog that kept following them and would not leave them alone. Not at all what one would call a good childhood.

And that _was _the end of Harry's childhood. As soon as he arrived at Hogwarts, he had seemed to be years older than he really was. In his first year...when he was only eleven...he had to save the wizarding world from the Dark Lord Voldemort. He had, through the whole year, been trying to discover what was hidden at Hogwarts and who was trying to steal it. He had thought it was Snape that was trying to steal the Philosopher's Stone. He thought that _he _had been the one that had tried to kill Harry, but it was not. It had been Quirrell. With Lord Voldemort on the back of his head. And if it had not been for Harry, he would have become immortal.

If it wasn't for Harry, a whole lot of things would be different.

In his second year, someone opened the Chamber of Secrets. It had been up to Harry to solve the mystery, and it turned out it was Voldemort once again. He had enchanted Ginny through a diary, and set a basilisk on the school. Harry had had to slay the King of Serpents that year, and he was only twelve. Twelve! A twelve year old had killed a basilisk to save Hogwarts School. Couldn't _anyone _else have done it?

No. No one else could have done it. Because Hermione was right. She always was.

Harry had a _saving-people-thing_. And that _saving-people-thing_ was why he needed to go down in the Chamber of Secrets once again. That _saving-people-thing_ was why he didn't just go to Dumbledore, and have _him_ rescue Ginny.

Well, that and the fact that only Harry and Voldemort could open the Chamber of Secrets...

And that was where Harry stood. In Moaning Myrtle's bathroom - without Myrtle, as it seemed she was still haunting Olive Hornby for teasing her about her glasses - standing in front of the sink. _The _sink. The one that hid the entrance to the Chamber.

He kneeled down, and looked for the snake. He found it. A small snake that had been scratched onto one of the copper taps, as a clue to where the Chamber was.

He once again tried to imagine that the snake was real. 

"Open up," he said.

__

"English," he said.

Harry whipped his head around at the sound of Ron's voice. The room was still empty. Ron was not there. _Another bloody memory. _

He looked back at the snake, and tried once again to will himself to believe it was real. _If he moved his head, the candlelight made it look like it was moving..._

"Open up," he said, but, like in his second year, he heard not those words, but a hiss. The tap began to glow and spin, and the sink sank out of sight. The pipe was exposed, big enough for a man to slide into.

__

"Well, you hardly seem to need me," said Lockhart, with a shadow of his old smile. "I'll just..."

Harry shook his head, as he slid his legs into the pipe. He wished those would just _stop._

He slid down into the hole, tucking his arms to his sides. He certainly hoped he would not need to slay the basilisk again. _Who knew what would happen in the future if the thing was to die now?_

He didn't want to take the chance. He needed to get Ginny and run.

__

"Take Harry and run!"

No. No. No. No. No! He did not need _those _memories, too. One encounter with the Dark Lord was _enough_.

He made his way down the familiar passages that lead to the Chamber. It had been a while since his scar had hurt...

__

Do not think of your scar! For the instant Harry did, his scar seared. He heard another scream, though this time he _actually _heard it. He was close.

There was the wall. Two serpents, entwined together, emerald eyes glinting.

Emerald eyes.

Harry shook himself. _A coincidence. I just overlooked it before. No reason to panic, just because they have my eyes. They're not even _my_ eyes. They're just green, _he assured himself.

Every nerve in his body was, once again, tingling unpleasantly. He approached the serpents.

The eyes looked so _real._

Harry blinked. _Calm down. That has nothing to do with anything._

"_Open," said Harry, in a low, faint hiss. _

The serpents parted as the wall cracked open, the halves slid smoothly out of sight, and Harry, shaking from head to foot, walked inside.

Harry blinked once again. Hopefully, that would stop soon.

He once again stood at the end of the long, dimly lit Chamber. Serpentine pillars towered on either side of him. He walked, wand raised, down the greenish hall. Hoping that, as in the future, the serpent was still in its home, inside the statue of Slytherin.

__

Every careful footstep echoed loudly off the shadowy walls. He kept his eyes narrowed, ready to clamp them shut at the smallest sign of movement. The hollow eye sockets of the stone snakes seemed to be following him. More than once, with a jolt of the stomach, he thought he saw one stir.

Then, as he drew level with the last of the pillars, a statue high as the Chamber itself loomed into view, standing against the back wall. 

Harry had to crane his neck to look up at the giant face above: It was ancient and monkeyish, with a long, thin beard that fell almost to the bottom of the wizard's sweeping stone robes, where two enormous grey feet stood on the smooth Chamber floor. And between the feet, facedown, lay a small black-robed figure with flaming-red hair. 

__

Was that a memory? Because he _did _see a small black-robed figure with flaming-red hair. She _was _laying, facedown between the feet of Slytherin's statue. And Harry knew one thing: He was _not _going to fling his wand to the side.

"Where are you, Riddle?" he called. No answer. "Tom!"

"She won't wake."

Harry spun around and saw, just as he remembered, Tom Riddle, leaning against the nearest pillar, watching.

"I know that, Tom," he said, taking a step closer, wand trained on the young Dark Lord. "And, let me guess, 'She's still alive, but only just.'"

"I had had a feeling you'd know that, Harry."

"And why is that?"

"Because this whole thing...you, and her...down here. I've seen it before. Just this morning in fact. I never really believed in Divination, but I sure will now...."

Harry's mind raced. Riddle had seen this before. This morning. He, Harry, had had a nightmare this morning about this very event. And so had Ginny. But _Riddle_?

"_Did_ you now? You had a nightmare? Sorry to disappoint you and all that,"

__

but the greatest wizard in the world is Albus Dumbledore. Everyone says so...

"but this wasn't what you saw."

"Of course this is what I saw," snapped Riddle, twirling his wand in his left hand, and Harry realised that whenever he had seen the Dark Lord, his wand had indeed been in his left hand. Harry had never thought that Voldemort might be left-handed. 

Harry almost tried to curse him, since he was not paying attention, but thought better of it. That was probably exactly what he was trying to do. "Idiot. This is _exactly_ how it happened. Wait...I didn't say I had a nightmare!"

"But you did," said Harry, wand still raised, "you woke up this morning, and you were terrified. I could tell."

Riddle, who had appeared confident once again, now seemed the slightest bit nervous. 

"Liar! Y-you just made that up!" 

"What did you do, Tom?" asked Harry curiously. "How did you disappear? Because I'm pretty sure that you can't Apparate on Hogwarts grounds..."

"You've got to be kidding me! You've actually read _Hogwarts, a History_? I thought I was the only person who had ever read that...."

"You probably are."

Riddle blinked. "Oh." He stopped twirling his wand. "You want to know what I did? Sure, I'll show you."

Faster than Harry could react, Riddle pointed his wand at him, and cried, "_Tempus Fugit!_" 

Harry winced as the spell sped toward him, sure that it was some sort of torture. It would have been pretty stupid of Riddle to waste a chance like that and not even hurt him.

But no pain came. It seemed that Riddle _had _acted pretty stupidly, and Harry had bought himself some time.

"What happened?" asked Harry. Nothing seemed different. It seemed as though the spell, whatever it was, had not worked.

"Look at _Ginny._"

Harry did. It took him a moment to notice it, as he did not have to notice what Ginny had done.... No, he had to notice what Ginny was not doing.

"She's not breathing!" he said. He spun back to Riddle. "YOU KILLED GINNY!" bellowed Harry. "YOU KILLED HER - I'LL KILL YOU!" His wand was pointed at Riddle in a flash. He was not thinking of what consequences it would have on the fabric of time. He was not thinking of anything, save the pure hatred that filled his heart at the mere sight of Riddle. For the first time in his life, he called, "_Avada Kedavra!_"

He knew something was wrong the instant he said it. Riddle did not move an inch, nor did he try to curse Harry. He smiled.

"She's still _alive_," said Riddle slowly, as if to savour the sound of the words as they rolled off his tongue, "but only _just_."

"But she's not breathing!"

It was then that Harry noticed the small green light that floated a couple feet in front of him. He couldn't tell all that well, but it seemed as though it was slowly getting longer. _Very _slowly. It was right where his wand had been, when he had said the Killing Curse.

He looked from the light to the smiling Riddle. "_That_," said the latter, "is your Killing Curse." He pointed at the light. "I suggest you don't touch it."

"What happened?"

"Do you know any _Latin,_ Harry?" asked Riddle. "Do you know what, '_Tempus_ _Fugit_,' when translated, _means_?" 

Harry shook his head. Hermione would know that.

"Time flies, Harry. Time flies."

"What? You stopped time?"

"No one can stop time, Harry. You can, however, use magic to move very, very fast." He smiled again. "You could say we're between _ticks _of the _clock._" He waved his wand, and a slow _tick_ing noise came out of nowhere.

__

Tick, tick, tick.

"Actually, it would be more accurate to say we are in the infinitesimally small space between two milliseconds..."

"_Milliseconds_?" Harry could not believe that. And it would mean that the Killing Curse travelled _how fast?_ He could still tell it was moving...

__

Tick, tick, tick.

"Yes. It was the best thing I could think of, on such short notice. I just cast the spell on little Ginny and myself, and took my sweet time coming down here. It seems to me as if it has taken you _hours _to get here. How long has it been? Forty-five minutes?

"You certainly seemed angry when you thought I'd killed her," said Riddle. "You must _really _care about her..."

__

Tick, tick, tick.

"Take the spell off," said Harry, through gritted teeth. He knew that it would probably do no good, but there was always the chance.

"Touched a nerve?" Riddle appeared delighted. "Oh, Harry, do you...do you _love _her?"

__

Tick, tick, tick.

"_Take the spell off..._" Harry wanted nothing more than for that curse to hit Riddle right in the forehead.

"Oh, if you _insist..._"

Riddle raised his wand, and paused. He smiled at Harry. 

He took a step to the right, and undid the spell. The jet of green light flew right by him.

"Damn!" swore Riddle. "You missed me!" He laughed, and while it was not the bone-chilling high laugh that Voldemort had had after the third task, it certainly was not an _enjoyable _sound.

"What do you want, Voldemort?" asked Harry. He winced as soon as the words left his mouth.

Riddle's gaze snapped to Harry. "What did you call me?"

"Voldemort. A friend of mine told me it meant 'flight from death.' That's basically what you just did." _What harm could it do to lie?_

"_Crucio!_" 

__

Oh. That harm. The pain coursed through Harry's body, head to toe, through every nerve. But at the same time, he laughed. He did not know how he laughed, as he thought that it was an impossible thing to do while an unforgivable was being used on one's self, but he did.

The pain stopped instantly. Riddle had a befuddled look on his face. "What's so funny?" he said.

"You really need to get better at that." The words spilled out of Harry's mouth before he could stop them. It really was a _stupid _thing to say.

"What?"

"That was nothing compared to the last time someone did that to me." Harry thought it a bad idea to tell exactly _who _had been doing the cursing at that particular time...

But it did seem to have a good effect, as Riddle did not attempt to curse him again.

"Oh? And I suppose you could do better?" he challenged.

__

Was he insane_? That was a _really_ stupid thing to say._

Harry blinked at him. "Sure."

He stood up, not even realising that he had fallen, and pointed his wand at Riddle. If it could possibly work, he had a plan. But there was _no way..._

"Now, I've never done this before..." he told the boy standing in front of him, whose wand was not even aimed. Riddle appeared to be preparing himself for the pain that he was sure would come. Harry's mouth began to form the curse, but at the last possible second, he turned. His wand pointed at Ginny, he cried, "_Tempus Fugit!_"

And Riddle appeared frozen. It was almost comical, the look on his face. One of pure shock. His jaw was slack. His eyes were wider than Luna's.

Harry laughed. It was an incredibly funny sight. 

He walked over to Ginny. "_Enervate!_"

Her eyes blinked open. "Harry?" She started to lean on her arm to get up, but fell back down.

"It's all right, Gin." He leaned over her and offered a hand. She took it, and he pulled her up.

Her eyes widened when she saw Riddle. "What did you _do _to him?" she asked incredulously. 

"Nothing," said Harry. "We're just moving faster than him."

She looked at him. "Well that's _obvious_, but..." she closed her mouth. "This is all well and good, but _how do we get out of here?_ We're still trapped in nineteen forty-five..."

"I dunno."

Harry walked over to Riddle, and looked him in the eye. He snorted. "You know, Gin, he actually _challenged_ me to curse him. I though he was supposed to be _smart._"

He raised his wand on the future Dark Lord, and said, "_Obliviate!_"

Turning back to Ginny, he said, "One can never be _too _careful."

"What do we do now?" she asked, still a little unsteady on her feet.

"Well, we get out of here, for one thing..." 

He walked over to her, and put an arm around her waist, and let her lean against him, as they began to walk down the Chamber.

Of course, that would be _far_ too anticlimactic of an escape, for Harry Potter.

Green smoke materialized around them, soon enveloping them in its haze. It blocked out all view of the Chamber, and Riddle. Even each other, and their faces were mere inches apart. A falling sensation encompassed them, and they were no longer sure if they were standing or if they had collapsed upon the floor.

Eventually, the vapour lifted, and they were able to open their eyes. They found themselves just where they were before. In the Chamber of Secrets.

Slowly, they rose to their feet, and looked around. Riddle was gone. There wasn't a sign that he had ever been there.

"Ginny," said Harry. He knew what had happened. The same thing that had happened twenty-four hours ago. Well, in actuality it was a great deal more than twenty-four hours ago...

"I don't think we're in Kansas anymore...-"

**_ ~ Author's Note ~ _** __

Part One, **The Shadow of the Past**, is now complete. There will be four parts to the fic, and Part Two, **Closer to Where I Started**, is coming soon.

Speaking of the next chapter...

"A retentive memory is a good thing, but the ability to forget is the true token of greatness."   
~ E. Hubbard

__

No, that is not the next chapter's quote, I just felt like putting it here. No, the real quote, is...

"He who would write and can't write, can surely review."  
~ Lowell

__

You really_ have to stop falling for that. No, the next chapter...well, it was the first one. And I wasn't hinting at _anything_..._

**__**

~ To Be Continued ~


	6. Out of the Frying Pan, into the Fire

Living inside Yesterday  
_Potter47 ** ~ Part Two ~  
Closer to Where I Started ** _"A retentive memory is a good thing, but the ability to forget is the true token of greatness."   
~ E. Hubbard **_~ Chapter Six ~  
Out of the Frying-Pan, Into the Fire_**

"What?" asked Ginny confusedly, having no idea whatsoever what 'Kansas' was. They did not teach wizard children American Muggle Geography. It just wasn't _done_.

"Oh," said Harry, realising his Muggle upbringing was showing. "It's from 'The Wizard of Oz.' The main character, Dorothy, she's transported to the land of Oz, and she says that to her dog. She's from Kansas," he explained.

She looked at him blankly. Her wizard upbringing was showing.

"Which is in America," he said.

"Oh."

"You really need to see that sometime," he said.

"Yeah," said Ginny wryly. "Some_time._"

Which brought them back to their current dilemma. They were stuck in the Chamber of Secrets, in some unknown year, and had no way to get out. There was no phoenix handy this time.

"We could...climb," said Harry, as he looked doubtfully up the long slide entrance to the Chamber.

"Somehow, I doubt it," said Ginny.

"Er..." Harry really had no clue what they were supposed to do. 

"There must be a way," said Ginny. "This was built so the Heir of Slytherin, and Slytherin himself, could get in _and _out."

"Maybe the Basilisk could give us a ride," Harry joked.

"Don't even say that." She turned around and sat on the Chamber's repulsive floor. "It's probably so _obvious_, and we just can't _think _of it..." Her chin rested itself upon a fist.

Harry stared at the slide. Ginny was right, it had to be something obvious. Obvious. For some strange reason that word made him think of Ron._ Why? _He did not know. But he had nothing better to do. He let his mind wander.

Ron. Was Ron all right? Were any of the rest hurt? What was the last thing Ron had said? Or, what _would be _the last thing Ron would say?

They had just tried to open that door. Sirius' knife had melted. Ron had said something then.

__

But what if that's the one?

But no, that didn't seem to be the last time Harry had heard his best friends voice... It seemed like he had just heard it. Maybe right after Ginny had been kidnapped. But that was absurd...Ron wouldn't be born for decades...

__

"English," he said.

That was it! Harry had heard Ron's voice. In that _vision-thingy._ Harry had no idea why it felt so important to him to remember that.

Wait a minute...

__

"Harry," said Ron. "Say something. Something in Parseltongue."

Duh!

"I am _stupid_!" Harry exclaimed, startling Ginny, who seemed to have been deep in thought, her gaze unfocused.

"Aren't we all..."

"No, Gin," said Harry hurriedly. "I'm _really _stupid."

"Why?"

"I'm a Parselmouth for crying out loud!" he said. "What'd I do to open the Chamber? Spoke Parseltongue. What'd I do to open this slide? Spoke Parseltongue! How thick can you get?" He faced the slide confidently.

"Well, I don't know, Harry... I have six brothers, not to mention quite a few friends, and some of them are _pretty thick._ Take Michael for instance..."

"Tell me later, Gin." For reasons he could not fathom, the thought of Michael Corner made him feel sick.

She looked mock-hurt. "_Fine_! I'll hold you to that, Harry James Potter!"

He looked as far up the slide as he could. If he turned his head, and squinted slightly, he could almost picture a snake coming down it. Bit of a stretch, yes, but he needed something, and he always had had quite an imagination. How else would he not have failed Divination?

__

What do I say?

"Well?" said Ginny, impatiently.

"Er..." he turned back to her. "What do I say?"

She looked at him oddly. "How about, 'Let us out!'" she suggested.

"Right."

He looked back once again.

__

"Let us out!"

Thankfully, Harry's Divination grade was indeed up to par, for the sounds that escaped his mouth were decidedly snakelike.

The slide seemed to spin. It was barely noticeable at first, but got faster and faster. As each subsequent section of stone turned past the centre of the slide, it slowly became rigid. Eventually, the ridges built themselves up, and the slide, or stairway as it now was, stopped spinning.

"Yeah," said Harry, "that worked."

* * *

Luna Lovegood was not thought by many to be an ordinary girl. In fact, she doubted there was _anyone _who thought her an ordinary girl. She certainly didn't struggle to achieve normalcy. 

But today, after the...unusual...episode that she had gone through the previous night, with the five Gryffindors, she did not struggle to be noticed either.

It was lunchtime now, and she had said barely ten words all day. She just didn't feel...like herself. Ginny Weasley was one of her very best friends, one of the only people who did not treat her like a freak. Did not steal her things. Was not mean to her.

And one of the others was Harry Potter. The Boy Who Lived. He had escaped You-Know-Who numerous times. He was the star of the _Quibbler's _record breaking issue. The best seeker Hogwarts had seen in a century. There were a million great things about him...

...not too far down on her list, was the fact that he was Ronald Weasley's best friend...

Both of them, Harry and Ginny. Both of them disappeared last night, or this morning, or whenever it was when the bell jar had fallen upon them. She could only imagine where they had gone. Or _when _as Hermione said. Hermione was definitely not Luna's favourite Gryffindor. Always insisting on a reasonable explanation. Evidence. When you live in a magical world, those things aren't always available...

...and Luna was pretty sure she fancied Ronald Weasley...

Yes, everything led back to Ronald.

Including Luna's very feet, as it seemed. For here she was, walking toward the Gryffindor table, once again. She was not sure what she was planning on saying. She was sure that Ronald was just fine, with the comfort of his friends, Hermione and Neville. He had people who he could relate to. She didn't.

So, as she could not think of a very good thing to say to Ronald, she decided to question Hermione on something that she had wondered about since their return. Something that she had a shrewd idea (or maybe it was more of a hope) as to what the answer was.

"Hello." She had thought in her head, of greeting, _Hello, Ronald_, but as she was not speaking to him, it did not seem appropriate.

"Oh, hello Luna," said Hermione, an odd tone in her voice. It wasn't odd to Luna, though. It was grief. Something the young Ravenclaw knew quite well, though most weren't aware of the fact.

"I was wondering something, Hermione," Luna said slowly.

The Gryffindor recognised the unusually usual voice in Luna's statement, and raised an eyebrow.

"You know that door in the Department of Mysteries?" asked Luna. "The one that wouldn't open at first?"

The three Gryffindors, Hermione, Ronald, and Neville nodded. 

"Do you have any idea why it opened for Ronald and me?"

"Yeah," said Ron. "I was wondering, too." He looked, as usual, to Hermione for the answer.

Luna felt an odd feeling in her stomach. Odd as it was, it was entirely common. She closed her eyes for a moment, and it was gone.

"I was thinking about that last night, actually," said Hermione. Luna assumed she meant this morning, and not the actual moment when they were in the Ministry.

"It must be something about the two of you," she said matter-of-factly. "What, I don't know. Could be like the Thestrals, and you both witnessed something. Maybe it only opens to people who grew up in the same city. Or maybe it just needed two people to open. Could be as simple as that."

"They grew up in the same city?" asked Neville, a perplexed look on his face. 

"I assume so," said Hermione, looking from one to the other. "Amos Diggory said a couple years ago that the Lovegoods had been at the Quidditch World Cup for a week already. I don't believe it's a very common name."

"Yeah, we've lived in Ottery St. Catchpole for all my life. My mother lived there when she was little, too."

"Your mother?" asked Ron. "I don't think I've ever met her."

"Oh, you did. You were five, I think. Your parents took you and Ginny over once to play." Luna laughed at the memory. "You wanted to play chess. Didn't have a _clue_ what that was..."

"At _five?_" asked Hermione in disbelief. "That's unheard of! If you were a Muggle, they'd probably of put you on TV."

Ron's ears were rather red, either at Hermione complement or the memory of when he was little. "It's not like I was any good or anything," he said. "Percy could still beat me."

"Yeah, but he was _nine_."

"Stop being modest, Ronald," said Luna, smiling at the scarlet ears.

"Yeah, well," Ron seemed to be trying to think of something that could lessen his embarrassment. Luna couldn't see why he was so uncomfortable. "You were loads better than me at that thing we ended up playing."

Luna's grin widened. "Oh, so you do remember?" She quirked a blond eyebrow.

"Well, now that you mention it and all..."

"What did you play?" asked Neville curiously.

Ron's eyes widened. "No, don't-"

"I don't know if you know it Neville, but Hermione probably would..." Luna was having a pretty good time, considering.

"_Please,_ Luna!" Ron begged.

"What?" asked Hermione, biting her lip. "It couldn't be that bad, could it?"

"Oh yes it could!" said Ron desperately. He wrapped his arms around his head.

"Well, alright." Luna decided if she was going to tell the story, she might as well sit down, so she sat in the empty space across from the three. It would not usually have been there, as Neville usually sat on the opposite side, along with Hermione, with Harry and Ginny at the table also, but today...

"Okay, first of all, my father's Muggle-born, so I learned the game from him. I thought that everyone knew it, so I was _ever so _surprised when Ronald and Ginny had no idea what I meant. Apparently wizards just don't play it."

"Could you just cast a Silencing Charm around my head please?" said Ron, lifting an arm to expose an eye.

"Shh."

"What game was it?" asked Hermione smiling, for a moment forgetting about the missing students.

"It's a quite fun game called, 'house...'" said Luna.

"Oh," said Hermione. "Well that's not that bad." She looked at Ron, and her eyes widened. "Unless..."

"Ronald just _insisted _on being the wife..."

"_You're_ _joking_!"

"Why couldn't this have been poison?" Ron held up his half-drunken goblet of pumpkin juice.

"Because you're not that lucky," said Neville, who was having a hard time keeping a straight face while watching the two witches hoot with laughter.

"Next issue of _The Quibbler,_" said Hermione, once she had calmed down a bit. "_Weasley Once Wished to be Wife!_" She burst out laughing again. "Do you have pictures?"

* * * 

"THIS IS A GIRLS' BATHROOM!"

"Damn," muttered Harry as he and Ginny exited the sink. "Forgot she might be here..."

"Get out of here, Potter!" screamed Moaning Myrtle.

"What?" asked Ginny. "How do you know his name?"

__

Not again...

"I-I...well." A silvery blush dominated the ghost's face. "I _may _have peeped in on him once or twice...Not that it's any business of _yours_, Evans."

"Evans?" Ginny looked to Harry. His eyes were wide, his mouth agape.

"_Lily _Evans?" asked Harry, a bit of a tremor in his voice.

"Of course, _Lily Evans,_" said the ghost, looking disdainfully down upon the redhead. "She's a Muggle-born like me. There _are _no other Evans's at Hogwarts."

"Gin," whispered Harry. "We should probably go..."

"Right."

The two tried to make their way out of the bathroom, but the ghost floated in front of them. 

"Gin?" she said. "Gin who?" 

"Er...I call her Gin." It wasn't a lie, really. He had been calling her 'Gin' through this whole adventure.

"_Oh_..." said Myrtle, a gleam in her eye. "A _pet name. _For your little _girlfriend. _She _actually_ went out with you? Never thought that would happen..." A tear started to roll down her cheek. 

__

She didn't...like..._my father, did she? _thought Harry. _Because she doesn't seem to be taking the news of a girlfriend all that well..._

"Er..." said Harry. "Better be off..."

"Go ahead...leave Myrtle alone again. No one cares about _me._"

Her tears turned into crying. Her crying turned into wailing. Soon the room would be flooded once again.

The two living beings left the bathroom without another word, not looking forward to witnessing another of Myrtle's crying affairs.

Once in the corridor, Ginny rounded on Harry. "Evans?" she asked. "Your mother?"

Harry nodded, his eyes closed as he leaned against the corridor wall.

"What is it with men in your family and redheads?" she asked. His eyes snapped open and his cheeks turned crimson. She didn't seem to be looking at him anymore however. Thankfully.

His thoughts of Ginny had indeed changed quite a bit over the past...what was it? Two days? He had begun to notice how -

"Potter! Mudblood!" called a voice from the end of the corridor. "What do you think you're doing down here?"

Harry turned to the voice, and was met with the sight of a tall, greasy-haired Slytherin. A _particular _Slytherin that Harry had no trouble recognising whatsoever.

"Snape," he muttered to Ginny. Harry noticed the badge on his robes, and also said, "Tell him you're a prefect, too. And that you have every right to be here." Harry could only hope that this wasn't seventh year, because he highly doubted that his mother would just _forget _about being Head Girl.

She told Snape what Harry had said, and Snape looked at her oddly. "Of course you're a prefect. Everyone knows that. You're Head Girl for crying out loud." _Damn_. "But _he _has no right patrolling with you." Snape's glare went over Harry.

"What's wrong with you two?" he asked. "You seem...shorter."

Indeed, Snape towered over the two of them, as he was a seventh year. 

Harry said the first thing that came to mind. "Don't know what you're talking about, Snivellus." He winced as soon as he said it, and hoped it wasn't too noticeable.

__

"All right, Snivellus?" said James loudly.

Snape reacted so fast it was as though he had been expecting an attack: Dropping his bag, he plunged his hand inside his robes, and his wand was halfway into the air when James shouted, "Expelliarmus!"

Harry would have rather not remembered that. He had seen it in Snape's penseive, and it was definitely not an enjoyable memory.

Snape looked at Ginny as though expecting her to say something. Harry tried to tell her with his eyes _not _to insult Snape, since Lily had been the one to defend him. It seemed a good idea to maintain the impression that they were Harry's parents as long as possible, or at least until they found Dumbledore. Miraculously, she seemed to have got the message. "Don't call him that," she said quietly.

"You've gone soft, Evans," Snape muttered dangerously, before he walked away.

Harry had an idea.

"SNAPE!" he called, running after him, leaving a bewildered Ginny staring.

"What is it, Potter?"

"Do you," Harry asked, out of breath, once he reached him, "do you know Dumbledore's password? I really need to speak with him."

"About what?" Snape asked venomously.

"None of your business."

"Doesn't _Evans_ know it?"

Harry shook his head.

"Fine, Potter, the password is 'Everlasting Gobstopper.' Don't know where he came up with that."

"Thanks a million." Harry ran back to Ginny, leaving a bewildered Snape staring.

"Gryffindors." Snape shook his head, and continued on his _merry _way.

**_~ Next Chapter ~  
Recollection _**"O call back yesterday, bid time return."   
~ Shakespeare **_ ~ Coming Soon ~_**


	7. Recollection

Living inside Yesterday  


_Potter47_

** ~ Part Two ~  
Closer to Where I Started**

"O call back yesterday, bid time return."   
~ Shakespeare

**_~ Chapter Seven ~  
Recollection _**

"You can stop laughing now," said Ron, who was beginning to get a bit annoyed with Hermione for laughing so much. Luna had calmed down minutes ago, and there was Hermione, still laughing her head off.

"It's not that funny," he muttered. "I was five."

"But Ron," said Hermione. "I can just _picture _you. Acting just like your mother. '_Virginia Weasley you stop that this instant!_' Was Ginny your daughter?"

Ron mumbled something that Hermione took as a 'yes.'

"Seriously, though," said Luna. "It really wasn't all that funny until he asked to borrow one of my dresses..."

"I DID NOT!"

She grinned. "Just _kidding_, Ron, I-"

He was staring at her, his eyes as wide as hers normally were. "What did you call me?"

She realised what she had done. "I-I called you _Ron._" She looked shocked at herself. "I don't think I've ever done that before."

"No, you always called all of us by our full names," Ron said. "Except Gin. I don't particularly know how you knew that 'Fred' was short for 'Alfred' and not 'Frederick.' Or that 'Bill' was short for 'Bilius.' Or that Charlie's name isn't short for anything..."

"I guessed," she admitted, smiling again.

Ron sat there thinking for a few moments. Something was clearly on his mind. "You stopped coming over...when was it?" he asked. "Right before I came here, wasn't it?"

Luna had stopped smiling. "I...erm...something happened. It didn't seem important anymore." 

She looked down at the table. Seeing all the food, delicious-looking as always, it almost made her throw up. She had not meant to talk about this. Especially not when her best friend was missing. Talking about childhood memories, cheerful ones, that was different. It had been a welcome relief. But this...

Ron (she decided she liked his nickname) was looking worriedly at her. So were Hermione and Neville, but they seemed a bit out of the conversation. They hadn't known Luna then. They only met her on the train, at the beginning of the year.

"What?" asked Ron. "What happened?" He spoke softly, comfortingly. Something she hadn't heard him do.

"My-" Luna started before she could stop herself. She never had been one to keep her mouth closed, and when Ron asked, it was quite impossible. There was something in his voice that gave Luna a bit of hope. "My mum," she said quietly. "She...well, she was always an amazing witch. Very powerful. She experimented a bit. One day, there was an accident, and..." Luna swallowed.

She looked up at the three Gryffindors. "Well, that's why I can see Thestrals."

"I'm sorry..." started Hermione, but Luna cut her off.

"There's nothing to be sorry for. You weren't there. You didn't even know her. Maybe..." She started to get up from the bench. "Maybe I should just go..."

"No," said Ron. "Stay."

Hermione looked as if she wanted to smack Ron for being so impolite. _You could at least use full sentences!_ But Luna didn't even notice the rudeness. She had left the table and was on her way out of the Great Hall. Ron had the strange urge to follow her, and was about to act on it, when he felt Hermione's hand on his arm. "Don't," she said, reading his mind. "You'll only make her feel worse." 

__

Of course, thought Ron. _It's all my fault. Hermione acts like she knows everything._

And for once, she was wrong.

* * *

"Everlasting Gobstopper," Ginny said as they reached the stone gargoyle. It sprang aside, as it always did, and they stepped inside the opening in the wall.

Harry did not like their current predicament one bit. First, they had travelled to a year in which his grandparents (he felt confident that John Potter and Virginia Arden, were in fact his grandparents) had been at Hogwarts, and now they had been taken to his parents final year at school. Why? What possible explanation could there be for the coincidence?

This was very different, however. Harry had not even known who his grandparents were, before this little odyssey began. He had no clue that his father's mother was a redhead named Virginia (a coincidence that he did not feel like even _thinking _about.). He didn't know that his grandfather was named John, and looked just like his father and himself.

But his parents...oh, Harry knew much about his parents.

The main reason for this being, of course, Snape's penseive. Harry had fallen into the stone bowl after an Occlumency lesson, earlier in the year. He witnessed the day of his parents' DADA OWL. And he saw his father torture Severus Snape.

Well, torture was a _harsh _word. It was more of _embarrassing_ or _humiliating. _But that did not change the fact that James Potter had hung the Slytherin upside down merely because Sirius Black was bored.

Lily Evans, Harry's mother, had defended Snape, and opposed James. That was what Harry was most uncomfortable with. His mother had seemed to _hate _James Potter. He could not see how they would end up married, even if his very existence was proof.

He had talked to Sirius and Lupin about it through the fire in Umbridge's office. They had told him that James had been an idiot. That they all had been idiots. They said that James' head had shrunken, and that Lily had gone out with him in -

Seventh year.

__

That probably already happened, thought Harry. He still couldn't picture it, even if he knew it was inevitable.

The staircase seemed to take forever to reach the top. Harry closed his eyes.

He tried to picture his parents together. Like, dating, not just standing next to each other. He found it remarkably hard, considering the fact that he had just seen, not twenty-hours beforehand, a couple that looked just like them. In fact, he could even picture himself and Ginny as a couple before he could picture his parents...

He shook his head. _Bad time to think about that, _he told himself. _Maybe once we're back home, but not now. _

For Harry had come to think of Ginny like that. Often. And it had begun quite recently. He looked at her now, taping her foot while waiting for the stairs to reach the door, and tried to remember how she used to be. When she had fancied him.

It seemed his imagination had evaporated, because as much as he tried, he could not picture Ginny putting her elbow in a butter-dish. Or blushing at the mere sight of him. It was clear that she was over him. She had been going out with Michael Corner all year.

Harry now knew why the thought of Michael Corner made him feel sick.

__

I can't believe this happened, he thought, still staring at the impatient red hair. _Who would've thought...just a few days ago, that I'd fancy Ginny Weasley?_

The wizard escalator finally came to a stop. Ginny reached out and knocked on the door. "Professor Dumbledore? May we come in?"

"Yes, of course, Miss Evans."

__

Fate, thought Harry. _It has to be fate._

* * *

Dark. Yes, that's the only word to describe the setting. Well, maybe that and 'evil,' but that seems to describe the feeling more than the setting. Even though the evil was practically visible.

And now it was. Out of the darkness, came a tall figure. An unnaturally tall figure with unnaturally long fingers.

The Dark Lord.

He was most definitely not a happy camper, if you were to use a Muggle saying (which would most likely be a bad idea).

His prophecy was not his. The Death Eaters had failed. And Harry Potter - the Boy Who Lived. The 'one with the power.' Harry Potter was missing. 

Along with the Weasley girl. 

What a coincidence.

The Dark Lord had made a mistake. He knew it as soon as it was made. It may, in fact, be a fatal error, if he was not careful.

He most definitely, should _not _have sent Crabbe.

The mistake was being paid for gravely. Yes, _gravely_. What an accurate term...

The Dark Lord was angry. Not only had Potter slipped through his hands once again, no, this time it was worse. There was no telling what was to happen on Potter's little 'adventure' with the Weasley girl. Secrets could be unravelled. Mysteries could be solved. _Feelings _could be discovered.

All the Dark Lord could do was, for lack of a better term, _pray_, that fate would not find a way to foil his plans once again.

For he did have a plan. Yes, he _always _had a plan.

"Death Eaters," he said, to the group that had gathered, in the room below. He was standing on a sort of balcony, overlooking a meeting room. All sound ceased the moment his cold, high voice left his mouth.

"My _loyal _Death Eaters," he said, walking to the edge of the balcony and peering into the crowd. "You all know of the recent failure. Of course you do. That is the reason one of our number is not present here tonight."

A shiver went through the gathered servants, all no doubt picturing what exactly the Dark Lord had done to Crabbe.

"You all know quite well that I do not tolerate failure. Some of you have been lucky, and you were spared the dark fate that was hanging above your head." He looked pointedly at the shivering mask that was Wormtail. "Others will not be."

"My lord," one of the Death Eaters said, stepping forward and speaking to the Dark Lord. "What are you planning to do now? We cannot steal the prophecy while Potter is missing. Do you have something else that needs accomplishing?"

"Why, yes I do Rookwood." The Dark Lord smiled his hideous smile, and Rookwood tried not to flinch. "Tonight as a matter of fact."

The Dark Lord waved his thirteen inch, phoenix feather wand, and an image appeared above the Death Eater's heads.

"Hogwarts!" cried one of the Death Eaters. Female. Lestrange. "You cannot be serious! Dumbledore is there! I am sure of it! If we attack Hogwarts we will fail!"

"Who said anything about attacking Hogwarts, Bellatrix?" the Dark Lord asked. "Such an attack is not nearly ready. It will be at least another year or so until we have the necessary forces for such a thing. No, not an attack."

"What then?" she asked. 

"You, Bellatrix, and a few of the other _loyal _Death Eaters, you will go to Hogwarts. But not an attack. More of a, _kidnapping, _actually_._" 

"Kidnapping?" asked a voice that was clearly that of Lucius Malfoy. "Who are you planning on kidnapping?"

"Your son Draco, of course," the Dark Lord stated as if it were the obvious answer.

"_What_?" Malfoy yelped. "Er...I mean, why do you want to kidnap Draco? He'd come any time if you just asked him..." Malfoy recovered.

"Idiot," Voldemort muttered. "It was a _joke_. You know, the nonsensical words of a disturbed _man_. Surely you've heard of them?"

Nervous laughter rippled through the group of minions, but they were not all that sure if the Dark Lord wanted them to laugh or not.

"No, I'm not going to kidnap your son, Lucius. What good would that do?" the Dark Lord questioned. "No, I plan on kidnapping Potter's four friends. Weasley, Granger, Longbottom," Bellatrix smiled her wicked smile, "and that Lovegood girl."

"But...why?" asked Goyle, who looked rather odd without his counterpart Crabbe. "Why kidnap Potter's friends? They are no threat to us..."

"Let me explain it to you Goyle," the Dark Lord said slowly, better for the Death Eater to understand. "Potter finds his way back _here_, and expects to find his _friends_. But he _doesn't. _Simple. _He_ comes and tries to rescue _them_, and then _we _have _him._ Get it?"

"Yes, my Lord."

"You'll go tomorrow," the Dark Lord said. "Malfoy, the Lestranges, Rookwood, and S-" he looked around. "Where is Snape?" he asked.

"He is filling in for the Headmaster," a female Death Eater said. Not Lestrange, no. Trelawney.

"Of course," said the Dark Lord, smiling. "All the better. Avery - go instead."

"Yes, my Lord."

__

Yes, thought the Dark Lord. _This should work._

* * *

"Sir," said Ginny. "It's not Miss Evans."

"What are you talking about?" asked the Headmaster. "Don't tell me you're marrying James already..." He looked to Harry.

"Er..." Harry was a bit distracted.

"No, sir," said Ginny. "It's us. Ginny Weasley and Harry Potter. Nineteen forty-five?"

Dumbledore looked at her closely. "Really?" he asked. "I have been wondering when you two would turn up again..."

"Yeah, well, we did," said Harry, tearing his eyes off of Ginny's hair. "And now my _parents _are here."

"James and Lily?" asked Dumbledore.

Harry nodded.

"I just _knew _that would work out." He beamed at Harry. "I've been trying to give them a push in the right direction for ages. I finally give up, and..._poof_! They're dating." He smiled at the two teens. "What is it about Potter men and redheads?"

It was very _warm _in Dumbledore's office. 

"Erm... Professor? What do we do now?" Harry asked, hoping that Ginny would not turn around, as his face was redder than her hair. 

"Well, how did you get out of nineteen forty-five?" asked Dumbledore curiously.

"We just..." Ginny turned around and looked at Harry questioningly. She did not comment on his current hue.

"There was a lot of green smoke, or fog, or something. And we just..."

"Came to now," Ginny finished.

Dumbledore was smiling slightly, presumably because of the finishing of sentences. "You did not control it at all?" he asked.

"No," said Harry and Ginny simultaneously, shaking their heads.

Dumbledore blinked, and smiled again. "Well, then I assume all you can do is wait. When did the smoke come?" he asked.

"I think a day after we got there."

"Yes, then. You will just have to wait, and see where you go next. Hopefully back to..." he thought for a moment. "Ninety-six?"

They nodded.

Harry thought of something. "Er...Professor?" he asked.

"Yes, Harry?"

"Where are we going to be staying?"

"Hmm... I hadn't thought of that." He looked to be thinking just for show, and had already had an answer. "Well, since your mother is the Head Girl this year, there is only one room available...You two wouldn't mind sharing the Head Boy's room, would you?" He had a mischievous glint in his eye. A glint that he had believed himself cured of when Lily and James got together.

Harry looked quite a bit like a goldfish, out of water. While he sat staring at the Headmaster, Ginny said, "Not at _all_. Harry? You don't mind the floor, do you?"

Numbly, Harry shook his head.

"Good night, my young friends," said the Headmaster merrily, as he stood up from his desk chair.

The two new roommates walked down the stairs, not waiting for it to take them down. One, very red in the face, and the other, struggling to keep her face straight.

**__**

~ Next Chapter ~  
Thicker than Water

"What has once happened, will invariably happen again, when the same circumstances which combined to produce it, shall again combine in the same way."   
~ Lincoln

**_ ~ Coming Soon ~ _**


	8. Thicker than Water

Living inside Yesterday  
_Potter47_

** ~ Part Two ~  
Closer to Where I Started **

"What has once happened, will invariably happen again, when the same  
circumstances which combined to produce it, shall again combine in the same way."   
~ Lincoln **_~ Chapter Eight ~  
Thicker than Water_**

Harry Potter did not exactly sleep well that night. He was plenty comfortable. Cushioning charms on the floor made sure of that. No, the reason he couldn't sleep was laying in that big four-poster bed.

Her name was Ginny Weasley.

And he was in love with her.

He was beginning to think that he was. He wasn't positive, but he was pretty certain. He knew one thing for sure: he did not feel like he used to around Cho.

What's different from Cho, you ask? 

A whole lot of things. Ginny wasn't always crying (big plus). She was beautiful (not that Cho wasn't, it was..._different_). She had red hair (this just seemed _really _important to Harry for some reason). She actually had _been through _things. (Like the diary in her first year, and their current exploit. Cho had just...well, her boyfriend was killed. That's the closest she had come to evil.) Ginny _understood._

And most of all, she was..._Ginny._

And Harry wanted to kill Michael Corner.

__

"Which one was Michael Corner?" Ron demanded furiously.

"The dark one," said Hermione.

"I didn't like him," said Ron at once.

"Big surprise," said Hermione under her breath.

"But," said Ron, following Hermione along in a row of quills in copper pots. _"I thought _

Ginny fancied Harry!"

Hermione looked at him rather pityingly and shook her head.

"Ginny used _to fancy Harry, but she gave up on him months ago..."_

Used _to fancy Harry..._

Used _to..._

"Damn fate," Harry muttered under his breath.

"Mmm?" asked Ginny sleepily from the bed.

"Nothing."

Harry turned over and tried futilely to fall asleep, his head still full of thoughts about Ginny.

* * *

Luna woke up early the next morning, having fallen asleep early the previous night. As always, she dreamed quite a bit, and remembered each one. Most had been memories of her mother, or nightmares, in which she relived her death. But some...some had been memories of Ron.

Ron.

She liked that name.

In one dream, she relived the night at the Department of Mysteries. She had assumed that it was a nightmare. 

She was wrong.

She saw the bell jar fall. She saw the Death Eaters, Malfoy and Lestrange. She saw the circular room. And the room that had opened for Ron and herself.

Then she opened the door to the space room. It was exhilarating, to fly in that room. No gravity. Nothing to keep her on the ground. Her mother had always told her of how she would be able to fly when she grew up, but Luna had assumed that she meant with a broom.

Luna should have learned by now: Assume nothing.

Then was her favourite part of the dream. Ron's Summoning Charm. But this time, when he caught her (or when she pinned him against the wall), he did not let go. Neville did not tell them to hurry up. The Death Eaters were gone. And he...

Well, he kissed her. For a long time. It seemed as though it would never end. She was lost in that kiss...

And then she woke up.

And she wanted to go back to sleep.

But she couldn't.

Damn.

So she dressed and went down to the Great Hall. She looked around the room. Empty. No teachers, no food, no Ron...

__

Crack!

Scratch that. There _was _food. But still no Ron.

So she went and sat down. Not at the Ravenclaw table, no. She hadn't felt like a Ravenclaw for three days. She sat at the Gryffindor table. Where she sat yesterday. Across from Ron.

And she ate.

It was a while before anyone else joined her. In fact, she didn't notice _anyone _come into the Great Hall at all.

Then, at long last, the door opened.

Luna, however, did not look up. So she didn't see the lack-of-person who had just entered the Great Hall.

She didn't see it walk to the Gryffindor table.

She wasn't even aware of its existence until it asked, "Would you like to play a nice _game_?"

And then she knew no more.

* * *

"My Lord," Wormtail said to his master, who sat in the great armchair, in the middle of the room. It brought back memories for Wormtail.

The Dark Lord had chosen the Riddle House for their current headquarters. He had said that since it was the first place someone would look, it was the last place Dumbledore would.

Wormtail didn't like it one bit. Too creepy...too many unfamiliar rats hiding in the walls...it made him extremely uncomfortable.

"What is it, Wormtail?" asked the Dark Lord, his eyes moving from his snake, Nagini, to his pathetic servant.

"My Lord, th-they have one already. The L-Lovegood girl. She woke up at some i-insane hour, and was the only person in the G-Great Hall when they arrived. Unbelievable l-luck, if you ask me." Even after all these years, Wormtail still stuttered when speaking to his master.

"Good," whispered the Dark Lord. Wormtail had to strain to hear, almost wishing he was Moony, with his enhanced hearing. "Keep me informed." 

Wormtail turned to leave.

"And Wormtail?" the Dark Lord stopped him. "I wouldn't wish such things, if I were you..."

The servant scampered out of the room, and the Dark Lord laughed. "Three to go."

* * *

__

She's so beautiful when she sleeps...

Harry stood above Ginny's bed, intent on waking her, as it was getting late. He couldn't do it, however. He seemed to be frozen, standing there, watching her.

Once again, Harry had the strong urge to kill a certain Ravenclaw...

...or at least _hurt _him...

Harry shook himself out of his murderous thoughts. It wasn't Michael Corner's fault that Harry had been a dense idiot for nearly five years. It was no one's fault but his own.

He reached over and shook Ginny's shoulder. She didn't stir. She just lay there, breathing evenly.

"Gin," he whispered, shaking her shoulder again.

She still didn't stir.

"Ginny," he whispered, but it came out more of a half scream.

Her eyes did not open. Her breathing did not change. But he was sure..._positive..._that her mouth twitched, as though trying not to smile.

He had seen numerous times on television, at the Dursley's, people who feigned sleep, so they could miss school, and such. But never had he seen such a convincing act.

__

How did they wake them up?

Oh, yeah...

"HEY!" spluttered Ginny, sitting up in bed. Harry had dumped the water jug over her head, and it did a _fine _job of waking her. "What was that for?" she demanded.

"You wouldn't wake up," he said simply.

"Well, you didn't try very hard! You were just standing there for a half hour!" She shook some of the water out of her hair, so Harry was a bit wet as well. He didn't really mind, because he saw the smile that told him she wasn't really angry.

__

What did she just say?

"You were _awake _for a half hour?" he asked incredulously. 

"So what if I was?" she asked, trying unsuccessfully to dry herself off. "Would you mind turning around? This soaked through my shirt." He noticed that she had pulled the blanket up to her chin as soon as she sat up. 

He then noticed what she just said.

"Oh!" He hurriedly turned around, realising he had been staring. His face was on fire once again.

He heard the rummaging of drawers, and the slam of the bathroom door. Surely he would not return to his usual colour for years to come.

* * *

When Ron, Hermione and Neville went down to the Great Hall for breakfast that morning, they noticed that Luna was not present.

"She's probably just sick," said Hermione, sitting down at her usual space at the Gryffindor table.

"Yeah," said Ron. "Probably..."

He stretched out his hand to take a slice of bacon, but a flash of fire erupted right in the middle of the Gryffindor table. Ron looked to both sides, but no-one else seemed to notice anything, save Hermione and Neville.

Once the fire had cleared, which took only a moment, Ron saw a single golden feather fall to the table. Along with it was a small note.

Hermione picked up the note and read, in a whisper, to her two friends:

__

"Nineteen seventy-eight.

No need to come to the office.

Be careful."

"Dumbledore?" asked Neville.

"Who else do you know that has a phoenix?" replied Hermione.

"So they're in nineteen seventy-eight?" said Ron. "I think I recognise that year..." He seemed to be thinking. "Charlie started Hogwarts that year," he said.

"Is that really all you can think of?" asked Hermione, rather pityingly.

"Er...yes?" Ron said. It was more of a question.

"Harry's parents _left school _in nineteen seventy-eight. I think that's a bit more relevant."

"Oh."

* * *

Harry and Ginny felt a bit uneasy as they made their way down to the kitchens for breakfast. It was not without reason, of course, as the last time they had gone to the kitchens it had led to Ginny's kidnapping. They were fairly sure, however, that Tom Riddle would not be eating a chicken and haggis sandwich in nineteen seventy-eight.

At least, not in Hogwarts.

They expected, once again, to be mistaken for Harry's parents. They were _not _expecting, however, to be -

"Mr. Potter! Miss Arden!"

"You've got to be kidding me," muttered Ginny.

"We are so very _sorry,_ Miss Evans!" piped up one of the other house-elves. "We have been _trying_ to make Wobbly realise that Miss Evans is Miss Evans and _not _Miss Arden for so long! Wobbly just won't listen!"

"It's alright," said Ginny. She definitely did not want to confuse the poor elves even more by saying that she was Miss _Weasley._

"You two seem shorter..." said one of the other house-elves. A suspicious looking one, with very thick eyebrows.

"What would you like?" asked Wobbly.

"Er, just some breakfast. Eggs, or toast, or whatever..."

They were each presented what, to Harry, seemed enough to fill Dudley. No small task.

The two ate in companionable silence, for quite a while. They never really had eaten in nineteen-forty five, and they were much too tired the previous night. The thought of food had been _quite _far off of Harry's mind. Of course, most things were quite far off Harry's mind, if they were not redheaded with freckles.

They had actually made a small dent in the colossal mountain of breakfast foods, and were sure that whenever they left nineteen-seventy eight, they would still be full. 

"I was wondering," asked Ginny. "Do you know when the smoke came? When we left nineteen forty-five?"

Harry had been thinking the same thing. "No," he said. "Sometime during the night. I'm not sure what time."

"So," she said, "when do you think we'll go next?"

"Dunno," he replied, "maybe back to my great-grandparents' school days, or _their _parents..."

"Or _their _parents. You never know."

"I was thinking," he said, "has this ever happened before? I mean, maybe someone _else _went through time...and they, I don't know, wrote a book. Maybe we should go to the library. I doubt anyone would be in there, as its nearly summer."

"Yeah," she said, standing up. "Let's."

So they both left the kitchens, headed toward the library. Harry hoped with all his being that it was indeed empty. It wasn't very fun to be mistaken for his parents. And now, since he and Ginny were a great deal shorter than the two, it would raise many more questions, should someone run into them.

Of course, some of the last people Harry wanted to run into were merrily chatting in the library, not a care in the world.

"It's about _time_, Prongs," said Sirius, turning in his chair to look at Harry. "We thought you two had forgotten about us and taken up in a broom cupboard."

Harry laughed nervously.

"Wait a minute," said Remus shrewdly. "You two look...different."

"What do you mean, Moony?" asked Peter. "They seem the same to me..."

The werewolf sniffed. "You _smell _different, too!"

"What?" Sirius turned to Remus. "They _smell _different?"

"That's not them!"

Harry was beginning to panic. Lupin was a werewolf. He could smell a whole lot better than most, and he could tell that they were not who the seemed. Not good.

"Who are you?" asked Remus. "Where's James and Lily?"

"Er..."

"We're right here," came another voice, from the opposite side of the shelf that was right behind Harry and Ginny.

"Er..."

Ginny seemed to be thinking fast as footsteps were heard coming around the bookshelf. Harry desperately hoped she could come up with a plan. He knew he couldn't.

James and Lily emerged from behind the bookshelf, and Harry was amazed at how similar the two did look to himself and Ginny. And John Potter and Virginia Arden.

"Who are you?" demanded Lily, coming to stand in front of Ginny. James stood next to her, across from Harry.

"My," murmured Ginny, "it's like looking in a mirror..."

Harry hoped that she had thought of something, and was not just speaking her mind.

"Who are you?" Lily repeated.

"Oh, you won't know me. But James will." She turned to Harry's father. Harry was now positive that she had thought of something. Otherwise she _definitely _would not have said that. But _what _had she thought of? And what help could it possibly do?

"Don't you recognise us?" Ginny asked Harry's father.

"Er..." James had an odd look in his eye. As though he _wanted _to believe something, but was sure it was an insane thought. "No."

The other three Marauders just sat and watched the two pairs, disbelieving looks on their faces.

"It's us, James," said Ginny. "Your parents. John and Virginia."

__

His what?! 

**_~ Next Chapter ~  
Family Reunion_**

"Everything I look on seemeth green."   
~ Shakespeare

**_ ~ Coming Soon ~_**


	9. Family Reunion

Living inside Yesterday  


_Potter47_

** ~ Part Two ~  
Closer to Where I Started**

"Everything I look on seemeth green."   
~ Shakespeare

**_~ Chapter Nine ~  
Family Reunion _**

"What?" asked James. "My parents are dead. Voldemort killed them."

Ginny looked at James as though he were stupid. "Do you honestly think we're your parents _now? _Do we even look _older _than you? No."

"What d'you mean?" he asked. "What, did you travel through time or something?"

"Exactly."

Harry saw a flaw in Ginny's plan. A rather large flaw that could give it all away.

"These are most definitely _not _your parents, James."

And it seemed that Lily saw it too.

"What?" asked James. "They look just like them. How would you know?"

Lily took a step to stand next to Harry. "What colour were your father's eyes, James?" she asked, looking Harry in the face.

"Hazel. Like mine," James answered at once.

__

Damn.

"Do these look hazel too you?" she asked gesturing at Harry's eyes.

James peered at the shorter boys face, and, seeing the emerald, his head snapped back to his girlfriend. He looked back and forth between the two. "They're green. Just like _yours_."

"As green as a fresh pickled toad," she agreed.

Ginny's head snapped up at once.

__

Losing his head, Harry tried to make a run for it, but the dwarf seized him around the knees and brought him crashing to the floor.

"Right," he said, sitting on Harry's ankles. "Here is your singing valentine:

His eyes are as green as a fresh pickled toad,

His hair is as dark as a blackboard.

I wish he was mine, he's really divine,

The hero who conquered the Dark Lord! 

"I'll ask once more," said Lily, bringing both Harry and Ginny back to reality, "_Who are you?_"

"Er..." It seemed this was the only word in Harry's vocabulary.

"Who do you think we are?" asked Ginny, trying, unsuccessfully, to seem taller. If not for the height difference, Lily and herself could have been twins.

"I think-" James started.

"I," said Sirius, bringing himself into the conversation, "think that this is officially the oddest thing that has happened all year."

They all but ignored him.

"-that you two were sent by Voldemort to try to infiltrate Hogwarts," James finished suspiciously.

Ginny couldn't help but snort, and Lily looked at her boyfriend pityingly. "If we were Death Eaters," said Ginny, "don't you think we'd be a bit...taller?" she asked. 

"Well, maybe...but-"

"I don't know who you are," said Lily. "I have no idea. _That_ would be why I keep asking _you_."

"Would you believe... I'm your third cousin on your father's side and through me you're distantly related to _him_ which is why I look like both of you?" asked Harry quickly. It was the worst lie he had ever attempted.

"No," said Lily, "I wouldn't."

"I thought not," he muttered dejectedly.

"What's that on your forehead?" asked Lupin, pointing.

"Er..."

"A scar," said Ginny matter-of-factly. Harry hoped she had thought of some brilliant plan to get them out of this. At least he could be sure that his parents would not kidnap her and take her into the Chamber of Secrets.

"I _know _it's a scar. Why's it shaped like that?"

"Er...my parents, they died in a car crash, I survived but I got that scar," Harry told the lie that the Dursley's had forced him to believe for ten years, hoping that it was remotely believable.

"_Right_..."

Apparently not.

"If you're not up to no good," said James, "why won't you just tell us your names?"

"Er..." said Harry once again. "I'm Larry Kotter."

No, _that _was the worst lie he'd ever attempted.

His mother looked at him oddly. "_Larry Kotter?_" she said. "What a coincidence! _His _name," she said, pointing at James, "is James _Harry Potter._"

__

Hmm...I never knew that...

"Fine," said Ginny. "My name's Ginny Weasley."

"Weasley?" asked Lily. "As in, Billy Weasley? Are you his sister?"

Ginny looked taken aback. "Yes, actually," she said. "I always called him _Bill_ though. _You_ know him?"

"Yeah. Second year, right? He said he liked my hair." Ginny snorted.

"Well he would, wouldn't he? It's just like ours," Ginny said, fingering her own. Harry suddenly had the strong urge to finger it too...

"And _you_ are?" asked Lily, turning to Harry.

"Er, first I'd like to say, we weren't lying when we said we had gone through time," said Ginny hurriedly. "Um, do you really need to know his name?" she whined.

"Yes."

Harry swallowed, and tore his gaze from the back of Ginny's head. "Harry," he said. "Harry Potter."

Lily blinked. James blinked. They looked at each other, and, blinked once again.

"_Potter?_" asked James, his eyes wide.

"Yeah."

Lily seemed to be struggling to form a word. She mouthed wordlessly for a few moments, then murmured, "Oh," and fainted dead away.

* * *

Something was wrong.

Ron knew that something was wrong.

He had felt it as soon as he entered the Great Hall that morning. Something had to be wrong. 

And he knew it had to do with Luna.

Ron was confused. That was the only thing he was sure of.

Until that night, in the Ministry, everything had been so _simple_.

Now, everything was decidedly complicated. He felt odd. He recognised the oddness. He had felt it for years. So, he guessed it was wrong to call it _oddness,_ as it was the norm.

He had felt this way every time he saw Hermione for years. Since third year, in fact. Every single time. _It_ was an odd feeling, even though he was used to _it_. But recently, _it_ had..._stopped._ He hadn't felt _it_ when he looked at Hermione. He hadn't felt _it_ at all.

And then he saw Luna.

He felt _it _again.

It was confusing...all this _it _business. Especially now. _It _seemed a stronger feeling now than _it_ had ever been before. As though _it _were something different. Something deeper.

Nonsense. Luna was his friend, wasn't she? She always had been. For as long as he could remember. They hadn't been all that close over the past few years, but he had always thought of her as a _friend._ Nothing more.

Just like _it_ was with Hermione...

Yes, Ron was confused. Or, as Luna would put it, Ron was _confuzzled._ Odd word. He wasn't even sure it _was _a word.

But he liked it.

He liked her. A great deal. He might even go as far as to say he _fancied _her. That's what he had thought of his feelings for Hermione. Until _it _all changed.

And Luna was not in the Great Hall. Hermione had said she was probably sick, and Ron had never before wanted to think Hermione was right more than he had at that moment.

But he had the oddest feeling that she _wasn't _sick. That something was seriously wrong.

And here he was, sitting in the _library _of all places, looking for...something.

"_Stupefy!_"

He never found it.

* * *

"Your my...our..._son?_" 

"Yeah," said Harry, "I'm your son." Words he never thought he'd be saying.

"But...why...why'd you come back here? Now?" James stuttered.

"Well, I didn't really _mean _to come back. It was an accident." He had _definitely _not meant to _tell _his parents who he was. Not in a thousand years.

"Er...Harry?" said Ginny. "You think maybe you should help your mum off the floor?"

"Oh!" Harry and James both jumped to help Lily off the library floor. Her eyes blinked open.

"Bloody hell," she said, looking from James to Harry. As they were both bent over, helping her up, they were at about the same level. The only differences being the eyes and the scar.

"You look just like him."

Moony, Wormtail, and Padfoot still just looked, mystified, at the scene unfolding in front of them. 

"Unbelievable," said Moony. "A family reunion, yet two of the three members did not even know about the family."

"Family..." said Lily. "Do you have any siblings?" she asked curiously.

"No."

"Where do we live?" asked James, as though he had been wondering for ages.

"Er...You know, if I say anything to you, it might-"

"-mess up the fabric of time," finished Ginny.

James looked between the two, and smiled.

"Of _course_," he said, grinning. "Harry? May I have a word?"

"Alright."

"Wait just one minute, James!" said Lily. "You are _not _asking about _anything _that can be bet upon!"

"Ah, don't worry," he said dismissively.

Harry and James walked a few aisles away, so that they could not be overheard. "So, Harry. You play Quidditch?"

"Er...yeah. I'm a seeker."

"A _seeker?_ Damn, I bet Padfoot that any kid of mine will be a chaser..." 

"I shouldn't really say anything," said Harry. "I don't want to find my way back and find myself playing chaser."

"Right, right, right," he said. "Just one more thing."

He leaned closer to Harry, and whispered, "Is she your girlfriend? Cause personally I think that she's _beautiful_. Then again, she _does _look just like Lily."

"Er...not yet, Dad." _Dad_. _I called him _dad_._

"Well don't wait too long! She actually seems to _like _you, and your what? In fifth year? Lily _hated _me in fifth year. You've got a head start." He thought for a second. "Did you just call me _dad?_ I like the sound of that..."

Father and son both walked back to the others, to hear a soft, "soon, maybe..." from Ginny, before she noticed them. She seemed to be in conversation with Lily.

"Well," Harry's mother said, "it's about time. Ginny here told me that you'd be leaving soon, so we decided that the best thing to do would be a memory charm for each of us."

"What? I want to _remember _that I have a son..."

"Well, you might _not _if you don't agree," she said dangerously.

"Fine, fine," he agreed hurriedly.

So, they proceeded to Obliviate the four marauders and Lily. As Harry was doing Wormtail's charm, he realised that the rat might even now be working for Voldemort. He might already be feeding secrets to the Dark Lord. Harry felt a surge of Hatred toward the small man. Yes, Hatred with a capital 'H'.

Just as he was about to do the charm, he heard a so-far-un-Obliviated James hiss in his ear, "Remember, don't wait too long."

And thoughts of Ginny replaced thoughts of Hatred as he performed the charm. He most definitely wouldn't wait long. The first thing he planned to do once he returned, was to sneak into the Ravenclaw dormitories, and Murder Michael Corner.

Yes, that's Murder with a capital 'M'.

* * *

Hermione was busy. She had taken every single book from the library that even so much as _mentioned _time-travel, eager to find out everything there was to know. Of course, she had already read the majority of them in her third year, when she got her time-turner, but she felt the need to go through them again.

But, of course, there were _quite _a lot of books that had to do with time travel in the library. She could hardly even see over the stack she held in her hands. It was ten books tall, with the topmost ones swaying precariously as she trudged along the hallways to Gryffindor Tower.

There was one new title that she wanted to start first. It was called '_Time Travel for Dummies_,' and seemed to have been published rather recently. She had never heard of it before.

It was written by G.Y. Granger, which she thought oddly coincidental. But the oddest thing about it was easily the fact that it just _fell _atop her pile of books. It seemed to come from nowhere, but she was sure it had just been on the top shelf.

So, after what seemed to be hours, she eventually reached the portrait hole.

"Is that you back there Miss Granger? My, that's quite a lot of books," the Fat Lady commented as Hermione came closer.

Hermione merely answered with the password. "_Fata viam invenient._"

"I'm sure they will."

Hermione climbed through the portrait hole, amazed that the pile survived. It seemed to defy logic. She shook her head. Of _course _it defied logic. It was _magic!_

She dumped the pile on a nearby table, and picked "_Time Travel for Dummies_" up for the first time. It felt warm in her hand, as her wand had when it picked her in Ollivander's.

She settled down in an armchair, opening the book. 

As she opened the front cover, the warmness seemed to increase. She just _knew _that this would be an interesting read.

But as she turned to the title page, she knew something quite different.

It read:

_

Time Travel for Dummies  
A Definitive Guide   
to the   
Past, Present, and Future

_

**Got You Granger **

She knew that she had been foolish. She knew that this was a trick. She knew that she felt a sickening hook behind her navel. She did not, however, know where she was going.

* * *

"Master," said Wormtail, walking cautiously back into the room. "Master, they have the Mudblood and Weasley. Granger's been portkeyed to the dungeon already, and you know Lovegood's already here."

The Dark Lord turned around, and Wormtail knew that the precious moments of stutter-free speech had ended.

"Only L-Longbottom is left. And Bellatrix is sure that h-he will be of no tr-trouble."

"Good, Wormtail. That's good. It makes me happy to have servants I can count on. Unlike some..."

Wormtail shivered. "There...there is something else I sh-should mention," said the servant.

"Yes?" the Dark Lord said, the 's' sound enunciated into a hiss.

"Potter and the Weasley girl. Th-they're in nineteen seventy-eight."

His master's slit-like eyes narrowed even further. "How do you know?"

"I was there, Master. Potter did a Memory Charm on me and B-Black and Lupin, and his p-parents." Wormtail shook once again. "His m-mind must have wandered, as I still remember it clearly. I d-did not until just a m-moment ago, so I assume that's where th-they are now. So to speak."

"Good, Wormtail," said the Dark Lord.

"It's only a m-matter of time..." said Wormtail.

"Of course it is, Wormtail. This whole little escapade has been a _matter of time._"

The Dark Lord instantly regretted saying it, as it seemed the sort of thing that Dumbledore would say. Urgh.

**_

~ Next Chapter ~  
Locked in the Dungeon

_**

"Show it a fair pair of heels and run for it."   
~ Shakespeare

**_ ~ Coming Soon ~_**


	10. Locked in the Dungeon

Living inside Yesterday  
_Potter47_

~ Part Two ~  
Closer to Where I Started

"Show it a fair pair of heels and run for it."   
~ Shakespeare

**__**

~ Chapter Ten ~  
Locked in the Dungeon 

Neville Longbottom was considered, by most, to be a very spineless Gryffindor compared to the rest. He was the 'cowardly lion' so to speak. He never minded it, unless of course it was Snape, or Malfoy, doing the teasing. Then it _really _got on his nerves.

Neville was not doing anything in particular, that day. He had taken a walk up to the Owlery for no good reason. He had taken his toad, Trevor, with him for no good reason. He just didn't feel like figuring good reasons for things today.

Two good friends of his, Harry Potter and Ginny Weasley, had disappeared two days prior. It was really a mystery, what happened to them, apart from the fact that they had gone back in time. Neville knew that they had been in nineteen forty-five, and now were in nineteen seventy-eight. Other than that, there really wasn't much to know.

And right now, Neville felt quite lonely. He had seen neither Ron nor Hermione since breakfast, and he had no one else to talk to. Luna had not been seen in even longer. Dean and Seamus were still celebrating the end of the OWLs, which they had finished before the whole excursion to the Ministry of Magic occurred. Even if they were available to talk to, they probably wouldn't understand. Nothing ever happened to them. They're parents were fine. They went home to them each summer. They were two normal, fifth-year, Gryffindor wizards. The _only _two, actually.

Neville, having nothing better to do, wrote a letter to his Gran, telling her of some of the recent happenings, and sent it off with a school owl.

If Neville was a normal fifth-year he would have parents to write to. He wouldn't need to write to his Gran.

He still was a bit in the dark on the whole issue of his parents' torture. He had heard that the Lestranges had tried to get them to tell where You-Know-Who was. How would they know? What was special about them? Why not some other auror? Why Frank Longbottom, and his wife, Alice?

Neville doubted he would ever find out. If anyone knew, it would be Dumbledore, and Dumbledore had always seemed to avoid Neville. As though there was something about him that he didn't like thinking of.

When Neville had been at the Department of Mysteries, he had seen for the first time in nearly fifteen years, the face of one of his parents' torturers. Bellatrix Lestrange. It had been great to see her attacked with Hermione's hex. It had been an image that would last his whole lifetime.

He wished that _he _could do something. Something to wipe that smile off her face.

He turned around, heading for the door. Trevor, however, seemed to have other ideas.

The toad leaped out of Neville's hands, and onto the floor. It hopped as fast as it's small legs could go, and Neville hurried to catch up. Out of the corner of his eye, he thought he saw something appear.

As he bent down to pick up the toad, he felt heat somewhere near his back. He raised his eyes as Trevor was secured in his hand, to see a flash of red light pass over him.

He swung around, and was once again facing Bellatrix Lestrange and her hideous smile. She had her wand out, pointing at him, and it seemed ready to send another stunner. Neville did the first thing he could think of.

He lifted Trevor in front of chest, and, amazingly, the beam of light hit the toad instead of Neville. He was still conscious, and Bellatrix was no longer smiling. Their eyes met, and Neville dove behind an owl perch as she fired another stunner.

"_Stupefy!_" she cried, a third, then fourth time. Neville kept moving, and her spells seemed to be hitting the owls, as they clearly were missing him.

"_Stupefy!_" she cried, annoyed at her repeated misses. But Neville seemed impossible to catch, as he continued to evade her.

After what seemed like hours of dodging spells, Neville reached the Owlery door, and dashed out it as fast as he could. In the corridor, he moved quickly along, narrowly missing a suit of armour that he passed.

"Damn!" he heard Bellatrix curse, as she made her way to the door.

Neville ran as hard as he could, looking anywhere for a teacher. _There must be one somewhere_, he thought as he ran, _this _is _a school..._

As he rounded a corner, he ran into the last person he'd ever thought he would be happy to see.

"Professor Snape!" he cried, running to the Potions Master. "Death Eater," he panted, "Lestrange! Bellatrix Lestrange!"

And he fainted, falling into the professor.

Snape, thinking fast, threw open a closet door, and quickly put Neville inside. He closed it, muttered, "_Colloportus!_" and turned around just as Lestrange rounded the corner.

"Snape!" she muttered, approaching him fast. "Longbottom, where'd he go?" It was clear that she thought luck on her side when she ran into the Potions Master. _What_ a coincidence to run into a Death Eater.

"He ran right past me," said Snape coolly. "Don't even think he noticed I was here. Which is saying something as he usually is terrified of me."

"Thanks," she muttered, and continued in her chase.

"Idiot," Snape said to himself, as she rounded the bend. He helped Longbottom out of the closet, and took him straight to Dumbledore.

* * *

Harry and Ginny sat in their room, having decided that there was far too much of a risk in roaming the corridors. They did not look forward to another encounter with a ghost from the past.

So, they just sat there. Waiting. Contemplating. Pondering. But most of all, in Harry's case at least, trying not to stare.

__

Remember, don't wait too long.

Don't wait too long!

Harry's father's voice repeatedly screamed in his head. He wished it would stop. It was even more annoying than the repeated flashbacks, and that was saying something.

"Harry," said Ginny, grinning, "remember when we were in the Chamber? You said, '_Tell me later, Gin._' Well, now I will."

Harry's mind raced back...what had she been saying? Something about...what _was_ it?

"I know quite a few people who are _pretty thick,_" she said, enunciating. "Ron, for example.... Last year, after the Yule Ball, Hermione screamed at him, _'Next time there's a ball, ask me before someone else does and not as a last resort!_'" Ginny imitated Hermione, with eerie accuracy. "Well, here he is, a year and a half later, and has he asked her anywhere? To Hogsmeade? No, he hasn't. He just doesn't _get it. _Unless, of course, he _doesn't _fancy her... " She laughed. "Nah, not a chance...."

"Er..." It wasn't exactly a comfortable topic for Harry, the Boy Who Loved.

"And Michael, he was worse than _anyone,_" she said. 

Harry straightened a bit in his seat at the mention of the dead man. Well, the _soon-to-be_ dead man.

"What?" he asked, trying to keep his voice even.

"Michael Corner," she said. "It took him three months to notice that Cho was interested in him. In fact, he probably _still _wouldn't have noticed if I hadn't dumped him..."

"You _what?_" asked Harry, unable to believe he might not have to perform an unforgivable.

"I dumped him," she said. "He didn't like Gryffindor beating Ravenclaw at Quidditch and got really sulky. I told him to go comfort Cho instead."

She looked at him oddly, a small smile on her lips. "What's it to _you_?" she asked suspiciously.

"Er...nothing," Harry said quickly.

"I know from experience that when you say 'er...nothing,' it _is _some-"

She stopped speaking short of the end of her sentence as green smoke once again appeared around them, slowly filling the room. It seemed as though, had the world not been magical, the smoke would slowly suffocate those who breathed it in; killing them from the inside out.

But it didn't. It didn't kill them. It did not harm them in any way, shape, or form. It did only the one thing they wished most for it to do.

It brought them home.

* * *

"Luna!" Ron said as the Death Eater threw him into the small dungeon room. Then he added, "Hermione!" after a moment. "You're alright!"

"Yeah," said Luna. "We're a little ground up, but we're fine."

Ron looked around the room they were being held in. It was small, even smaller than his bedroom at the Burrow. The walls were made of stone, and the door was thick wood. A small barred window was set in it, through which one could see a bit of the outside corridor. The floor was hard and icy cold, and tremendously unpleasant.

"Do they have Neville?" asked Hermione. "We heard them saying that only Longbottom was left."

"Who's they?" asked Ron, peering out of the window. "Which Death Eaters took you two?" He turned back to his two companions.

"Bellatrix Lestrange got me," said Luna. "At breakfast. Apparently I woke up a bit early. No one else was there yet."

"No one got _me_," muttered Hermione. She did not seem to want to admit how she was taken.

"Then how were you taken?" asked Ron.

"She was portkeyed here," came a drawling voice from outside the door. "It was my idea, actually. To give her a _book_ portkey. I knew she wouldn't be able to resist..."

"Malfoy!" said Ron, blocking the rest of the room from the view of the window. He was sure, even though the Death Eater wore a mask, as always, that it was Lucius Malfoy.

"Yes," said Malfoy, his cold eyes visible through the slits of his mask. "My, how you've _grown._ I didn't notice back in the Ministry. You must be as tall as _dear old Dad_, by now. I _do_ hope he is feeling better. Nasty _snake _bite, I hear."

"Why did you kidnap us?" asked Luna, coming up to the door. "We're of no importance. Harry's the one You-Know-Who wants. Why bother with us?" 

"Because when your precious Potter gets back from nineteen seventy-eight-" 

Hermione gasped.

"Yes, Granger. The Dark Lord knows that Potter's in nineteen seventy-eight. He is most definitely not stupid. Unlike _some..._" 

He could not tell, as he was wearing the mask, but Ron was sure that Malfoy was smiling.

"As I was saying, when Potter gets back here, he will find his friends missing. Gone. And he will do _anything _to get them back. He'll walk right into the Dark Lord's trap."

"Do you notice the flaw in your plan, Malfoy?" asked Hermione, standing up and joining the others at the window. Clearly, she had thoroughly analysed the Dark Lord's plan in the four seconds since she learned of it. "It really is _obvious_."

"What are you talking about, Mudblood?" Malfoy drawled.

Ron had no idea either. He did not see a flaw. But then again, he wasn't Hermione...

"You're underestimating quite a bit. You're assuming. Never assume."

"Spit it out, Mudblood."

"You're underestimating Neville," said Hermione. "It seems as though he wasn't quite so easy to catch as us." She smiled as the masked Death Eater seemed to falter a bit, trying to come up with a reply.

"You're underestimating Dumbledore," she continued. "Do you think he won't find out about this? Death Eaters running about in the school. As if no one would notice..."

Hermione was now standing right up against the door, as she'd been slowly moving closer since she began talking.

"But most of all, you're underestimating _Harry_," she said. "He's escaped from Voldemort how many times? What makes you think he wouldn't find a way again? Even if he did try to save us, there's no telling how it would turn out. He might _win_."

"You always were a stupid girl," said Malfoy. "Do _you_ honestly think that your precious Potter has a chance? The only reason Potter's still alive today is pure luck. He's bound to run out of it. Then the Dark Lord will defeat him once and for all. And, as the prophecy says, no one will be able to vanquish the Dark Lord. He _will_ win."

"Prophecy?" demanded Hermione. "What prophecy?"

Malfoy laughed. "And they said _you_ were the smart one..."

"_What prophecy_?" she demanded again, her hand sliding into her robes. Malfoy could only see her face.

"_The _prophecy," said Malfoy. "The reason this whole odyssey began. The reason Potter has no parents...."

"_What_?"

"The reason he has a scar.... The reason you all are here...."

"_Crucio!_"

Hermione never thought she'd hear that word from her mouth, but it was the only thing on her mind. The pure hatred that she felt at that moment. Malfoy screamed in pain. Pain. That was all her mind wanted - to cause him pain.

She raised the wand that she'd aimed through the window, and the screaming stopped. They could hear footsteps pounding above them. Death Eaters running to the source of the scream.

"Next time," she muttered. "make sure that people _don't have their wands, _when you kidnap them by portkey."

She quickly stunned him, and summoned his wand. She shoved it into Ron's hand. He hid it in his robes.

Wormtail was the first to arrive, having run down as a rat. He took one look at the situation, and pulled his wand. It was short, only seven or eight inches, but fit fine in his hand.

"Granger," he said, coming slowly closer to the door, his wand raised. "Master wishes to speak with you first."

She silenced Ron with a look, and hissed, "Don't let them know about the wand!" in his ear. She put her hands up, and tossed her wand out the window.

"Good," said Wormtail, picking up the wand, and opening the door. "Good...come with me."

He locked the door again, behind Hermione, and he took her down the end of the corridor. They went up the stairs, Hermione's hands behind her head.

"Idiot," muttered Ron, once they were out of earshot. "He is an _idiot_!"

"Be thankful for that," said Luna, taking one last glance out the window.

Ron walked back to the opposite side of the room, and sat down against the hard wall. It was anything but comfortable, and yet Ron did not find it unpleasant at all. For Luna had followed him.

She sat next to him, her right arm against his left, and they stared wordlessly at the door. Waiting.

Waiting to die. Waiting to live. Waiting for the absolution that they both knew was coming. Yes, _knew._ There was no doubt. It was fate. Destiny. There was no other way.

It was called Harry.

**_~ Author's Note ~ _** _So, that's the end of Part Two. Hope you liked it. Please review. Well, my sister thought it would be "fun" to have a little contest. I seriously will question the sanity of participants, as I doubt anyone really cares. But. alas, the contest is this: _

Many of the titles, for chapters one (1) to ten (10) of "Living inside Yesterday" were taken from very specific sources. It is up to **you**, as the reader, to determine where they came from. They may be from books, movies, television shows, or songs. Do not attempt to find sources for chapters **one (1)**, **seven (7)**, and **8 (eight)**. Those came off the top of my head, and I doubt that you have seen the inside of my mind. 

I just doubt it.

Also, the two part titles, **The Shadow of the Past**, and **Closer to Where I Started**, are also from unambiguous (?) sources. Please send all responses, either by review, or by email. Email to **Potter847@yahoo.com**, and review to...well, review to this fic. If you get some right, your name will be listed at the end of the next part. **Not **chapter, **part**. That means **five** **(5)** chapters from now. That's how long you have. Anyone who can match at least **four** **(4) **correctly will win a **Living inside Yesterday **wallpaper...ABSOLUTELY FREE!

And if that wasn't enough...

****

BONUS: I bet you're asking, "Am I ever gonna find out, where the title, 'Living inside Yesterday,' came from?! I need to know!" You're not? Ah, well, how 'bout you try to find out, even though you don't care? **Anyone **who does so, in an **email only**,will get that wallpaper, once again, ABSOLUTELY FREE! Sound like a plan?

So, any takers? Maybe? I had a feeling. **REVIEW ANYWAY! **(Maybe you can say where the last few lines of this chapter came from, as well.) Thank you. * * *

For anyone who cares, the next chapter's quote is:

"We have met the enemy and he is us."   
~ Walt Kelly _ **~ To Be Continued... ~ ~ Same Bat Time... ~ ~ Same Bat Channel! ~ **_


	11. Not at Home

Living inside Yesterday  


_Potter47 ** ~ Part Three ~  
Prisoners of the Mind ** _"We have met the enemy and he is us."   
~ Walt Kelly **_~ Chapter Eleven ~  
Not at Home _**

"So," asked Ginny, once she could open her eyes again, "when do you think we are?"

"Dunno," said Harry. "But I certainly hope we're home. I think I've run out of relatives."

"Only one way to find out," she said, standing up.

She walked to the door of the Head Boy's room, and Harry followed. He couldn't help but think of how close that had been. 

__

What's it to you_?_

Yes, that had been close.

They made their way down the stairs, to the common room. Harry had greatly hoped that Ron or Hermione would be there, so he could know right off when they were, but, as it was the middle of the night, it was empty. Not a creature was stirring. Not even a mouse.

So they left through the portrait hole. The Fat Lady was snoozing. No one was in the hallway. They made their way toward Dumbledore's office - at least, what they _hoped _was Dumbledore's office. Harry could just imagine running into his great grandfather and his red haired girlfriend....

__

No! Don't think of red hair right now! 

For Harry was having quite a bit of trouble tearing his sight away from the back of Ginny's head. It seemed that nothing would distract him from the fiery mane....

"Potter!"

That did. Harry's head snapped up at once. For he knew that voice. He could never forget that voice. It was the very voice that had greeted him in nineteen seventy-eight....

"Professor Snape!"

They had arrived at the stone gargoyle, and it had just moved aside to reveal the Potions Master. Who would've thought...Harry was _happy _to see Snape. And Snape actually didn't seem that disappointed to see him either.

"Follow me," the Potions Master said, and turned right back around, leading the way up the stairs. 

Harry and Ginny followed, and this time Harry purposely went _before _Ginny, so as to not stare.

When they reached the top, Dumbledore was there waiting for them. "You're back!" he said, not sounding his age at all.

"So are you," said Ginny, and Harry remembered that Dumbledore had indeed _not _been at Hogwarts when they left.

"Well, yes, but technically Severus is headmaster at this time. I just happen to _be _here."

"Snape?" said Harry incredulously, completely forgetting the fact that the Potions Master was standing not two feet from him. "Headmaster?"

"_Professor _Snape, Harry," corrected Dumbledore.

"Excuse me," said Snape, "but I believe there are more important things at hand right now than discussing my position in this school."

"Of course, Headmaster," said Dumbledore, his eyes twinkling.

"More important things?" said Ginny. "Something happened?"

"I'm afraid so, Virginia," said Dumbledore, serious once again. "Three of your friends, Mr. Weasley, Miss Granger, and Miss Lovegood, have been kidnapped."

"_Kidnapped_?" said Harry. "Why? What does Voldemort want with them?"

But Ginny seemed to be thinking along other lines. "_Three?_" she repeated. "What about Neville?"

"Ah," said Dumbledore, eyes twinkling just a bit, "we come to the good part of the tale. Mr. Longbottom is, as one might put it, the monkey that got away."

"Monkey?"

"Oh, I recently read a Muggle book, called 'Curious George,' and-" He stopped short at a look from the Potions Master. I mean, a look from the _Headmaster,_ excuse me.

"Not the time," Dumbledore said. "But Mr. Longbottom did indeed get away. He outran Bellatrix Lestrange through the school, until he ran into our Potions Master. Mrs. Lestrange must have thought her luck _incredible_ that she happened to run into a loyal Death Eater. Professor Snape hid him in a nearby closet, and Bellatrix ran right by. Mr. Longbottom is currently safe in his dormitory. His parents would be proud."

Dumbledore looked down for a moment, as if contemplating telling something else, but he thought better of it. He shook his head slightly as if to say, 'Soon, but not now. Soon.'

"What about the others?" said Harry urgently. "Where are they? Are they all right?"

"Harry," said Dumbledore calmly, "you of course remember last year. In the graveyard, by his father's grave. You remember?"

Harry nodded. He realised that this was the first time since that night, June 24, that Dumbledore had spoken directly at him. Looked him in the face. It felt oddly reassuring, as though everything was back to normal, even though it was so far from the truth.

"There was a house. By the graveyard. It was on a hill, overlooking a village. The village of Little Hangleton. It was called 'the Riddle House,' as the Riddle family had lived there, many years before. The house was not a _usual _house. It was Muggle, of course, but it was quite old. The owners had a _dungeon _built in the basement. That is where your friends are being held."

"How do you know?" asked Ginny. "How do you know where they are?"

"Voldemort summoned the Death Eaters there. Severus, having a quite good excuse, as he is the Headmaster at the moment, did not report to him. He did however, tell me _where_ Voldemort is."

"I was just about to go there, actually, when you two turned up," said Snape. "I hope to be able to speak with them. Granger might actually be able to think of something to get them out of there. We certainly haven't."

It was odd, hearing Snape's voice without any sarcasm. Not teasing, or mocking. As if he actually did think Hermione might have an idea. It seemed Snape actually might _care _about the outcome of the odyssey they were all so very wrapped up in. It was actually _clear, _if only for a moment, that he wanted the right side to win.

Ron would be shocked.

* * *

__

Sniff, sniff.

All the way up the stairs, up from the dungeon, that was what Hermione heard. It seemed as though Wormtail was _smelling _her. It really was disgusting. 

"Will you stop that?" she said, irritated, over her shoulder. 

"Stop what?" asked Wormtail, as if he didn't know.

"Stop..._sniffing_," she said, annoyed. 

As soon as she said it, she wished she hadn't, as now the pathetic man behind her purposely sniffed loudly. Right in her ear. It was taking all the self control she possessed to keep herself from ripping his nose right off.

The hallways of the house looked quite old. The walls were covered with dust, and the floor looked as though it would have been too, had it not been walked on quite a bit recently. There were no pictures on the walls, but, of course, that was to be expected. The house had been empty for decades.

They kept walking. When they reached the second floor landing, Hermione could see where they were headed. A door, at the very end of the passage, stood ajar. They walked up to it, Wormtail never ceasing his sniffing.

As they came to the door, Wormtail stepped in front of Hermione, as if something horrible would happen if it was her and not him who touched the doorknob. 

"Here she is, my lord," said Wormtail, opening the door.

"Very good, Wormtail. Shut the door behind her," came a high voice from the armchair in the chamber. It was faced toward the fire, and once again, memories flashed through Wormtail's mind.

"Very well, my lord." Hermione stepped into the room, and he closed the door. It shut with a loud _click._

* * *

"So," asked Dumbledore, after Snape had left the office, heading toward Little Hangleton, "what have you two been up to?"

"Well," said Ginny, "once we got out of the Ministry, we took the Knight Bus to Hogwarts..."

"You met Frank?" asked Dumbledore, smiling.

"Frank?" asked Harry. He did not remember a Frank. Unless...no, it couldn't be....

"The conductor. Frank Franklin. A great fan of the Muggle cinema. He was a good friend of mine, until he was killed by Grindelwald..."

__

...People always are interrupting me, and frankly, I don't like it...frankly, I don't like it when people try to ride the Knight Bus for free...I don't know why, but frankly, I just love those Muggle films...

"Oh, yes. We did," said Ginny. "He didn't tell us his name, though..."

They told him of how Riddle kidnapped Ginny. Of the _Tempus Fugit _spell. Of their escape. Everything that happened in between their meetings with the Headmaster. 

"Did you mind sharing the Head Boy's room?" he asked, eyes twinkling. "I am greatly sorry, that there was no where else available..."

Harry blushed brightly, and Ginny said, "No, not at all."

Then they told of meeting Harry's parents.

"And then," said Ginny, "Harry's father took him aside for something, I dunno what, and..."

Dumbledore looked up, as if to question Harry, but thought better of it. Harry thought positive that his face was redder than Ginny's hair, which was the very thing that made his face such a hue. Dumbledore clearly had put two and two together, for he did not question further.

"...then we _Obliviated _them. I did Harry's mum and Professor Lupin, Harry did his dad, Sirius, and Wormtail."

"You were concentrating when you did so, correct? If your mind was to wander, then the charms might not have worked correctly."

"Yes," said Ginny confidently.

"Er..." Harry was thinking back. When he did the charms on James and Sirius, he was sure he concentrated. But on Wormtail...that was when his father had whispered in his ear. His mind may have wandered. Wormtail might remember. "I _think _so...."

"Well, it doesn't really matter does it?" said Ginny. "We're both back, so if anyone remembered anything, it didn't affect the future."

"I suppose so," said Dumbledore. He was looking shrewdly at Harry. Harry was sure that Dumbledore was looking _through _him. 

"AHHH!" Harry screamed, collapsing forward, onto the desk. His scar seared. Ginny got up at once and helped Harry back into his chair. Dumbledore sat back in his seat, as though afraid. As if he was deadly afraid of the young man in front of him. His eyes were wide, and mouth slightly open.

But Harry was unaware of this. He was unaware of anything but the pain. His head was ripping apart, it seemed. And there was no end in sight.

* * *

The Dark Lord sat, in his high backed chair, facing the fire. Nagini was curled around his feet, warming her head. 

"How _nice_ it is to meet you at last, Miss Granger," he said to the girl in the doorway. He couldn't see her of course, but Lord Voldemort hadn't needed to see someone enter a room for quite a while. He could sense her. Smell her. Feel her. Her very presence invaded his mind, announcing her arrival.

"Can't say the same," came Hermione's voice, "Voldemort."

"Well," he said, "it's taken long enough for _Dumbledore _to convince someone to call me by that name."

"He didn't. Harry did. Without even trying to."

Voldemort could smell the bile rising in her throat. She would vomit soon, if she wasn't careful. 

"Why don't you come over here, like a nice little Gryffindor, and we can have a nice _chat,_" the Dark Lord asked.

"I'd pr-prefer not to."

She held the vomit down. Impressive.

"Fine then."

The Dark Lord stood, his snake uncoiling itself from his feet. He turned, to see the girl struggling to keep still. To stop herself from shaking. 

She was about a foot shorter than him. He towered above her, and she kept her gaze down.

"So," he said, "you cursed Lucius?"

She tried to keep silent, but an invisible hand seemed to seize the top of her head, and pushed, forcing her to nod.

"I daresay he deserved it," he said. "It's his own fault you had a wand. He felt it was too easy to simply kidnap you, like the rest. That he had to make _your _kidnapping _special._ Look at how that turned out."

"Why did you kidnap us?" asked Hermione, looking up into his face. "Just because we're his friends? There must be another reason."

"Yes, well, everything does seem to happen for a reason. Maybe there's more than one, maybe there's not."

"Why did you want to speak to me?" she asked.

"I wanted information," informed the Dark Lord. "Potter believed that Black was at the Ministry once, but he won't again. Who's next? Who would Harry Potter give his life for? Who would he give anything to save?"

"Like I'd tell you."

"Ah, but you already have."

Her gaze snapped back up. Brown eyes met red, and that was exactly what the Dark Lord wanted. He saw everything, when their eyes met. He saw her thoughts, her secrets. For he did not need a wand for Legilimency. Especially when there was eye contact.

"Miss Weasley?" he said. "I heard he saved her before. In his second year. From _me, _actually...but...I didn't think..."

This was _not _good. For the Dark Lord, that is.

* * *

"AHHH!"

Harry's eyes suddenly sprang open. He had been there. In the Riddle House. In that room. In Voldemort.

"What is it, Harry?" asked Ginny worriedly. "What did you see?"

"Yes, Harry," said Dumbledore, sitting straight once again, and looking into Harry's eyes. "What did you see?" 

"Voldemort...he...he was with Hermione. Talking...talking about me."

"About you?" asked Dumbledore. "What about you?"

"Well, first, Voldemort said that Hermione had cursed Malfoy. I dunno how, I would of thought they'd of taken her wand..."

"And?"

"Hermione was trying not to throw up. I could..."

"You could _what_, Harry?" asked Dumbledore, still looking into the depths of Harry's emerald eyes.

"I could smell it."

Dumbledore's eyes narrowed. "You _were _Voldemort again, weren't you? You saw what he saw?"

"Yes."

"Say no more, Harry. Say no more." Dumbledore stood up from his chair.

"Wait," said Ginny. "Wait. Don't you want to know what Voldemort was saying? About Harry? Don't you care?"

"I already know, Virginia," said Dumbledore, looking into Ginny's eyes now. "And deep down, you do, too."

No one said anything for a few moments.

"What do we do now?" asked Harry.

"You wait here," he said. "And rest."

"Where are you going?" Ginny asked.

"I need to retrieve something that was borrowed before I left the school. I think it may be useful."

And he left. Walked right out the door.

"Won't people see him?" said Ginny, to herself, or to Harry. She wasn't sure. "Won't people tell the Ministry where he is?"

"No," said Harry, shaking his head. "If he doesn't want to be seen, he _isn't _seen."

They were silent after that. Harry, his eyes closed, rubbing his forehead, and Ginny, eyes wide, her gaze never leaving the door. The only sound was the comforting trills of Fawkes, who had settled himself on the arm of Harry's chair.

**_~ Author's Note ~ _**I don't think that 'the monkey that got away' is actually from '**Curious George**.' In fact, it may even be 'who_ got away' instead. I don't remember. If I ever read that book, it was a long, long time ago, and I don't remember it. It was referenced in '**The Pretender**,' (a TV show that is now on TNT, after being cancelled four years ago by NBC) in the fourth episode. That's all I know. **~ Next Chapter ~  
Someone to Trust **_"There is none so blind as they that won't see."   
~ Jonathan Swift **_ ~ Coming Soon ~_**


	12. Someone to Trust

Living inside Yesterday  


_Potter47 ** ~ Part Three ~  
Prisoners of the Mind ** _"There is none so blind as they that won't see."   
~ Jonathan Swift **_~ Chapter Twelve ~  
Someone to Trust _** __

Click.

"What was that?" Ron said sleepily. He had apparently dozed off sometime after sitting down next to Luna. Now he heard something. His voice awoke his companion.

"Careful, Mum," Luna murmured as she joined the world of the living. Her eyes opened, and Ron realised how strange she had looked with them closed. Not _bad _strange - no, just _strange._ He was used to her eyes always wide open. Actually, it was kind of nice...

The door to their room slowly, and silently, opened. There was a small light on the opposite side, maybe a lit wand. It reflected silver.

A Death Eater's mask.

Ron reached his right hand into his robes, and grasped Malfoy's wand. He didn't want to give away the fact that they had it, but there was always the chance that You-Know-Who had decided to kill them in their sleep.

"_Silencio!_" muttered a familiar voice once the door was closed. The Death Eater also said a charm that was unfamiliar to Ron on the window. A strange haze streamed from the tip of the man's wand, and transformed itself into a black veil. It attached itself to the edges, and covered all of the window.

The man turned, and looked at the two of them. "Weasley, I strongly suggest you hide that wand a bit better."

Ron jumped at the sound of Snape's voice. His instinct told him to curse the man in front of him. _He's evil!_ his mind screamed. But at the same time, a distinctly Hermione-sounding voice said, _Dumbledore trusts him! _So he held back.

"Professor Snape," said Luna, sitting up straight, and leaving Ron's arm feeling noticeably lonesome.

"Miss Lovegood," said Snape, nodding toward her.

"What are you doing here?" asked Ron.

"Better question," said the Potions Master, as he removed his mask, "where's Miss Granger?"

"Wormtail took her to You-Know-Who," said Ron. "Why?"

"I suggest you stop being suspicious of every word I say," said Snape icily, his gaze on Ron's hand, "as I am the only person in this house that you and your friends can trust."

"Why should we trust you?" said Ron suspiciously, while Hermione's voice screamed, _DUMBLEDORE TRUSTS HIM!_

"Well," said Snape, "there is the fact that, had I been a loyal Death Eater, you would _not_ still be talking. You'd be on the floor. Stunned. Or worse. Not to mention the fact that the Headmaster has faith in my loyalty. He would not entrust this task to a Death Eater. Trust can kill you," he said, "or set you free."

"What task?" asked Luna.

"Getting you three out of here alive," said Snape.

Ron had been so sure that Harry would save them, and here was Snape, playing hero. Not what he expected.

"You're getting us out of here?" asked Luna.

"Technically, no, _I _am not getting you out of here," he said. "I am here to find a _way _to get you out of here. I have a feeling that _Potter _will be the one to do the actual rescuing. Can't imagine Dumbledore having anyone else do it. He's back, you know."

"Harry?" said Ron.

"No, Stubby _Boardman_," he said sarcastically.

"Really?" said Luna, hardly daring to believe it. "Is he going to reunite the Hobgoblins?"

"Incompetent-" Snape muttered, but stopped. "Wait a minute, you're a _Ravenclaw _aren't you?"

"Yes," said Luna proudly, "I am."

"Well, you're the first incompetent_ Ravenclaw_ that I've met. Yes, Weasley. Potter is back, along with your sister."

"Are they all right?"

"_Yes_, Weasley. They are all right. That is not important right now. What is important, is that I speak with Miss Granger."

"Why?"

"Because so far, we have had very little luck in figuring a way to get you out of this mess, and Miss Granger just might be able to think of something."

"Was that a compliment?" asked a shaky voice from the corner.

"Hermione?" said Ron. "How'd you get back here?"

"Portkey," she said. "V-Voldemort Portkeyed me back-" She suddenly lurched forward and vomited on the stone floor.

Snape walked over to her, and helped her upright again. He cast a _Scourgify _to clean the mess. "Well, Miss Granger," he said, walking her steadily toward her friends, "how is _spew _going these days?"

* * *

"How long has he been gone?" Ginny asked. She was still watching the door, after who-knows-how-long went by. "You'd think he was going to the _dungeons_, it's taking him so long."

There was no answer. She turned around, her neck aching as she did so. Harry was asleep in his chair, and snoring softly. She must have blocked out the sound. As soon as her gaze left the office door, it opened.

"Is he asleep?" whispered Dumbledore, carrying a large bowl into his office.

"Yeah," she said. "What is that?" She gestured toward the bowl, which Dumbledore had just set down on his desk. It wasn't so much of a bowl as a shallow stone basin. With runes carved into the edge. Ginny, having taken Ancient Runes for the past two years, thought them vaguely familiar. She was sure that she would remember what they meant, but at the moment they just looked like random carvings.

"This," said Dumbledore, "is called a Pensieve. I sometimes find, and I am sure you know the feeling, that I simply have too many thoughts and memories crammed into my mind."

"A few times," she said, thinking of her first year, and the months of aftermath.

"At these times," said Dumbledore, indicating the stone basin, "I use the Pensieve. One simply siphons the excess thoughts from one's mind, pours them into the basin, and examines them at one's leisure. It becomes easier to spot patterns and links, you understand, when they are in this form." Ginny wasn't sure, but it seemed to her that Dumbledore had explained this many times before.

"You mean this stuff is your thoughts?" she asked, gazing into the bright, whitish silver liquid that swirled within the Pensieve.

"Yes," he said. "Well, mine and Severus'. He borrowed the Pensieve for Harry's Occlumency lessons. Though I believe that it worked as more of a hindrance than a help..."

__

I guess he was _going to the dungeons..._

"And what are you going to use it for?" she asked.

"Harry's visions," replied the Headmaster.

"Visions?" said Ginny, perplexed. "He only had one. I don't think he's had another one since he saw Sirius in the Department of Mysteries."

"Yes, well, he has only had one _so far._ But I believe he will have another one. Perhaps when Voldemort speaks with your brother, or Miss Lovegood."

He looked up at Harry. "Would you mind waking him up?" he said. Ginny got the impression that for some reason or another, he did not want to touch Harry.

"Sure."

She reached over and touched his shoulder. "Harry," she said. "Wake up."

"Just a minute, Aunt Petunia," Harry murmured sleepily before turning his head away from her.

"Harry, it's me, Ginny. Wake up!" she said softly, pushing harder on his shoulder.

"Stop it, Dudley. Stop hitting me."

"Harry, it's _me!_" Harry didn't respond, and began to snore once again.

She turned back around to Dumbledore. "You have any water?"

* * *

"What did he do?" Snape asked Hermione. "What did he want with you?"

"He asked," said Hermione, recovering, and sitting against the stone wall. "He asked about Harry."

"What did he ask?" Snape had an unfamiliar tone in his voice. He was, for once, not being sarcastic. 

"He asked who Harry cared about. Who he would give his life for."

"Did you answer?" asked Ron, standing next to Snape. He noticed for the first time that he was only a bit shorter than the Potions Master. He was used to sitting by a cauldron, while Snape towered over the whole class. 

"Yes, and no," said Hermione wearily.

"How do you mean?" said Ron.

"Well, I didn't _answer_ him. He read my-" She glanced at Snape. "He used Legilimency."

"And what did he discover?" said Snape warily.

"Well, it might not be true... as it's only what _I _think..."

"_What _did he discover?" Snape pressed on.

"Ginny," said Hermione. "He discovered that Harry would give his life for Ginny."

"Ginny?" said Ron. "Harry would give his life for _any_ of us. That's just who he is. Hell, he would even give his life for Sn-"

"Yes?" Snape cut in, turning around, his gaze meeting Ron's.

"He would even give his life for you," Ron finished quietly, eyes falling to the floor.

"Foolish Gryffindors," Snape muttered. "When you speak with Potter again, be sure to tell him _not _to give his life for just anybody. His life is _far_ more important than any of you are aware." He paused for a moment, his gaze shrewd. "Your sister is _different_, I gather, from the way the Headmaster speaks of her. We all have our parts to play, Weasley, in this grand production. I'm playing mine. You're playing yours. Potter's playing his. Your sister...I believe your sister's will be a starring role."

"As will yours, Ron," said Luna quietly, comfortingly. "Just a bit further down in the cast."

"That reminds me," said Hermione. "Voldemort said that he would be speaking to Ron next. He said he has more questions that need answering."

"Don't we all," muttered Snape. He quickly picked up his mask, put it back on his head, and took the spell off the window. He stood to the left of the door, where no one would be able to see him when it opened. A last thought occurred to him, and he quickly took aim with his wand.

"_Obliviate!_" he muttered, and Ron's eyes went blank for a moment, before returning to normal. Hermione and Luna knew better than to ask what the Memory Charm was for.

They heard footsteps coming down the stairs, and then toward their cell. Ron handed Malfoy's wand back to Hermione for safe keeping. The door opened silently, and the figure of Wormtail was framed in the doorway. His wand lit the room, since Snape's had been put out, and he stepped inside. 

"Weasley," he said, pointedly avoiding eye contact. "The Dark Lord would like to speak to you next."

"Fine, Scabbers," Ron said as he walked to the door. "But you better not try to sniff me."

Wormtail shivered slightly at the threat, and followed Ron out of the room, shutting the door behind them.

After they heard the footsteps on the stairs, Luna voiced her thoughts. "What was that for?" she demanded. "Why'd you need to Obliviate him?"

Snape took off his mask again, and was about to answer when-

"Because," cut in Hermione, in her best know-it-all voice, "if Voldemort was to use Legilimency on Ron, he would find out about Professor Snape being a double agent. Not to mention the fact that he's right _here_. The only reason he didn't when he used it on _me_, was because I wasn't thinking of it. It would be on the top of Ron's mind right now. If that happened, not only would Professor Snape's cover be blown, but we'd all be dead."

She looked at the Professor, as if to confirm her suspicions. He nodded.

"Very good, Miss Granger," he said, an odd look on his face. He paused before saying something completely unexpected.

"Ten points to Gryffindor."

* * *

"Hey!" spluttered Harry, wiping water out of his eyes. 

"You deserved it..." said Ginny, grinning.

"But I was really asleep!" he said. "You were faking!"

"Excuse me?" said Dumbledore, eyes twinkling. "There was a reason Virginia woke you, Harry. You are familiar with the Pensieve, of course?"

He gestured toward the stone basin that resided on his desk. Harry nodded.

"Harry, I would very much appreciate it if you would add your vision to the Pensieve. That way I can analyse it, and such. Perhaps discover something."

"Sure," said Harry. "What do I do?"

"As you remember, from last year, you take your wand," Dumbledore said, and Harry slid his wand out of his sleeve, "and put it to your temple..."

Harry did so, and, while Ginny watched in fascination, Dumbledore said, "Now, think of your vision. Try to remember every detail." He stopped for a moment, before saying, "Was Virginia in your vision?"

Ginny looked at him confusedly, and Harry shook his head. "No," he said.

"Then I suggest you either avert your gaze from the back of her head, or simply close your eyes. I daresay that hair of such a hue is quite distracting," he said with wink that only Harry could see. _Especially for Potters..._ the old man thought.

Harry's eyes snapped shut, and his cheeks glowed once more. Dumbledore continued, "Try to remember everything, from the size of the room, to the location of the light switch."

Ginny was about to ask what he meant by 'light switch,' but thought better of it. Harry was sure to know what it was, and her speaking would only distract him from the task at hand.

"Do you remember?" asked Dumbledore.

Harry nodded, his eyes tightly shut, and a look of intense concentration on his face.

"Good," said Dumbledore. "Now, with that thought, slowly take your wand away from your head, until the thought is freed."

Harry did so, and a silvery substance came away with his wand. As the last bit left his temple, the strand dangled down, one side still connected to the wand.

"You may open your eyes," said Dumbledore. "And with a _flick!_, release the thought over the Pensieve."

As the ribbon of thought touched the surface, the image of a dark room shimmered into view. Hermione was standing there, a revolted look on her face, and she seemed to be struggling to keep from vomiting.

"Very good, Harry," said Dumbledore, peering into the bowl. 

"Wow," said Ginny, also gazing into the basin. "Could I get one of these?"

Dumbledore smiled slightly. "Maybe one day, Virginia, but for now, we need to get you two," he pointed at Harry, and then Ginny, with a long bony finger, "to the Hanged Man."

"The hanged man?" asked Ginny. "What does that have to do with anything?"

"It's the village pub in Little Hangleton," said Dumbledore. "It's the closest we can get you to the Riddle House."

"But...why?" said Harry. "I thought Snape was going. Shouldn't we at least wait for him to get back?"

"No time," the Headmaster replied. "He may be able to help you, once you get there, but you need to get going."

"_Us_?" said Ginny disbelievingly. "Couldn't you send Aurors as well, or something? What chance to we have? That house is probably full of Death Eaters!"

"Oh, it is," said Dumbledore. "I'm sure of it. But there's no way that we'd be able to get a large enough group of Aurors any time soon. Especially since I'm still technically on the run. So, instead of force, you'll have to go by stealth. Infiltrate Voldemort's hideout, and rescue the captives." He looked at Harry for a moment, "Have you ever seen 'The Wizard of Oz?'"  


Harry was taken aback by the randomness of the question. "Er, yes. But what does that have to do with anything?"

"You recall when the Wicked Witch held Dorothy captive? How did she get away?"

"Are you suggesting that I try to melt Voldemort with a bucket of _water?_" he asked.

"No, of course not," said Dumbledore, shaking his head. "I tried that years ago."

"Then what are you getting at?"

"Dorothy got away because of her friends. They saved her, correct?"

"Right..."

"Well, you two must do the same." He paused. "I don't particularly know why I said that. I'm sure there are numerous other rescues with similar circumstances that I know of, but for some reason I felt the need to compare this predicament with that..."

Ginny was looking at them blankly. "Is that all?" she asked. "I believe you were saying something about us going to the Riddle House..."

"Oh, right," he said. "I got a bit off topic there." He walked over to the fireplace, and picked up the flowerpot of Floo powder. He tossed a handful into the fire.

"Virginia, you first," he said. "Be sure to say 'the Hanged Man,' as if the 'H' and 'M' are capital, or you may find yourself in Salem, Massachusetts."

"See you in a bit, Harry," Ginny said, and she stepped into the fire. She cried, "The Hanged Man!" and disappeared in a rush of green flames.

"Remember," said Dumbledore, "they're in the dungeon. Try to stay hidden, and be sure not to curse Professor Snape if you are to run into him."

"Right." He took some Floo powder as well, and threw it into the flames.

"The Hanged Man!"

* * *

He rushed through the network of grates, spinning uncomfortably, until he found himself on the floor of an old pub. Ginny was there also, and held out a hand to help him to his feet. As soon as he was standing, he took a look around. 

There were not many people in the Hanged Man. In fact, as it was quite early morning, there was only one other individual. She was an old woman, much older than Madam Rosmerta, and she was wiping down the bar with a dirty rag. At first Harry thought that she hadn't noticed them, but then he realised that she had, and just didn't make anything of it. Apparently, it was perfectly normal for two teenagers to Floo in to the Hanged Man at four o'clock in the morning.

"What can I get ya?" she asked, not looking up.

"Oh, nothing," said Ginny politely, "we're just passing through."

"I had a feeling you'd be coming through here," she said as they made their way to the door, "Mr. Potter."

Harry stopped short. He was clear across the pub from the old lady, and he thought it was highly unlikely that she could see his scar.

"Why's that?" he asked suspiciously.

"They aren't that smart," she said, shaking her head. "You'll be able to take 'em, no trouble."

Harry walked closer to the woman, who still had not looked up. "Who?" he asked.

"Those men up in the Riddle House. The men in the cloaks," she said, as if it were an everyday occurrence. "Everyone's been talkin' about 'em. Name's Dot, by the way. Been workin' here for...sixty-three years now."

"You know about them?" he said.

"Well," she said, "it's not as though they go to great lengths disguisin' themselves. Bright lights comin' out of there, some say. I ne'er seen 'em, o' course, but they got all us poor Muggles up in arms."

"Muggles?" Harry said. "You're a Muggle? But the fireplace-"

"Just because I'm a Muggle don't mean I don't know about you folk. Increases business, it does, having a Floo fireplace. Didn't used to get any wizards in here, before I got that connected to the network." She gestured to the fireplace.

"As I said, you'll be able to take 'em. After all, you are the boy who lived, right?"

"Right," Harry said, oddly. Something about Dot seemed odd to him. Other than the fact that she was a Muggle with a Floo fireplace.

"'Twas him who killed the Riddles, wasn't it?" she said suddenly. "The man in that house?"

Harry was taken aback at first, and then he nodded.

"Well?" she said. She looked up for the first time, and Harry saw what made her seem odd. Her eyes were glazed, much like Aragog was, in Harry's second year. "I can't hear ya nod, ya know..."

She was blind.

"Oh, yes," he said. "It was."

"I reckoned so," she said. "You best be off now. Good luck gettin' your friends back."

"Tha-" Harry stopped short, realising what she said. He was going to ask how she could possibly know that, when she turned around, picked up a cane that was leaning against the back of the bar, and walked into the back room.

"That was..." Ginny spoke for the first time, "odd."

"That it was," said Harry. "That it was."

They finally made their way out of the pub, and found themselves in a deserted brick street. It was very old looking, and the bricks had taken a yellowish tint over the years. He realised for the first time that this was a Muggle town. He should have realised before, as Tom Riddle Senior was Muggle, and this was his home, but he somehow overlooked it. He also realised that, had there been anyone there, they would have seemed most peculiar in wizarding robes.

"So," said Ginny looking up the street, at the Riddle House, which towered over the small town, "what do we do now?"

Harry let his gaze fall back to the street, and he noticed the irony in their situation.

"Simple, Gin," he said. "We follow the yellow brick road."

**_

_**

~ Author's Note ~

__

You're really getting sick of those 'Wizard of Oz' references aren't you? Sorry, but it fit. I don't think the next chapter'll have any. Speaking of the--

** __**

~ Next Chapter ~  
The Subtle Knife

"Slowly, silently, now the moon  
Walks the night in her silver shoon."   
~ De la Mare 

****

~ Coming Soon ~


	13. The Subtle Knife

Living inside Yesterday  


_Potter47 ** ~ Part Three ~  
Prisoners of the Mind ** _"Slowly, silently, now the moon  
Walks the night in her silver shoon."   
~ De la Mare

**_~ Chapter Thirteen ~  
The Subtle Knife _**

"Nice to meet you, Weasley," said the Dark Lord, as the door to his chamber opened. "I'm guessing that you don't feel the same."

The Dark Lord stood up once again, and faced the door.

"My," he said, "they said you were tall, but I didn't expect _this_..."

For, as the Dark Lord walked closer to Ron, he found that the boy was only a few inches shorter than _himself_. And Voldemort was obviously not a short Dark Lord.

"What do you want?" asked Ron. He seemed to be better than Hermione at keeping the vomit back. Voldemort could hardly smell it.

"I just want to make conversation with someone I've heard so _much_ about."

"_What_ _do_ _you_ _want_?" asked Ron, through gritted teeth. 

"I've been wondering," said Voldemort, a thoughtful look on his grotesque face, "are you and the Mudblood..._together?_"

"Don't call her that!"

"Shall I take that as a 'yes?'" 

"No," said Ron. "You shallnot_._"

"_Really?_" asked the Dark Lord suspiciously. "I was so _sure_...I never did understand this issue very well...."

He then looked into Ron's eyes, deeper than anyone else had ever looked. He could see everything. In fact, he could see himself, if he wished, by looking at the very recent memories, but he felt no desire to do such a thing.

"Really," said Ron, once Voldemort broke the eye contact.

"Who would've thought...." said the Dark Lord. "Lovegood? Really? Am I mistaken?"

Ron quickly shifted his gaze to his feet. He did not answer.

"I guess I'm not," the Dark Lord said. "Pity."

"What?" Ron's gaze was back up. "Why's it a _pity_? What's wrong with Luna?"

Voldemort smiled. "I could tell you, but I believe you wish to get back to your nice cell within the next day or so...."

"Huh?"

"It's called a 'joke,'" said the Dark Lord. "Why doesn't anybody know that anymore?"

"Is that all?" asked Ron, hoping to leave.

"Do you honestly think I'd have you come all the way up here just to discuss your _feelings_?" asked Voldemort incredulously. "No. That's not all."

Ron's hope plummeted.

"How does your sister feel?" asked the Dark Lord. "About Potter?"

"What?" asked Ron. "What do you care about how Ginny feels? What does that have to do with anything?"

"It has to do with _everything,_ Weasley," he said. "Everything."

"I'm not going to tell you!" said Ron. "Why would I tell you?" He quickly snapped his eyes shut.

"Open your eyes, Weasley."

"No."

"Fine." The Dark Lord pulled his wand out of his robe's left pocket. "It'll only take a bit longer." 

"_Legilimens!_"

* * *

"What?" asked Hermione incredulously. 

"I said, ten points to Gryffindor," repeated Snape.

"Y-you've _never _given me points," said Hermione. "Or anyone else in Gryffindor for that matter."

"There's a first time for everything," said Luna. "I remember the first time he gave Ravenclaw points. At least, the first time I knew of it."

"I am the Head of Slytherin House, Miss Granger. You rarely even see me outside of Potions class. A class full of junior Death Eaters. Surely you've realised that."

A look of understanding flashed in Hermione's eyes.

"Realised what?" said Luna. "What does that have to do with anything?"

"He...he _has_ to be biased against Gryffindor, because if he wasn't, Malfoy and the other Slytherins would tell their dads, and he could lose his position in the Death Eaters."

"Once again, very good, Miss Granger," said Snape, putting the spell back on the window. "So, do you have any ideas?"

"Oh," said Hermione. "All I can think of is just sneaking in here, and sneaking us out. It would be a great deal easier if you had a Portkey, that could bring us back, but it would be more galleons than any of us have to set up an unauthorised Portkey."

"Actually," said Snape, "I doubt Dumbledore couldn't, if he felt it necessary, make one. But _clearly _he doesn't value your lives all that much. If Potter can pull this off, it'll be a whole lot more than ten points to Gryffindor."

"_Ron!_" called Luna.

"What?" said Hermione turning around.

  
"Ron, are you all right?" asked Luna, kneeling beside the red-haired form that had just appeared.

"Yeah," said Ron. "I hit my head on the wall, but other than that I'm fine."

"What did he do?" asked Snape.

"Snape!" cried Ron. "_What are you doing here_?" He looked over at Hermione. "Quick! You have that wand! Curse him!"

"_Reiterate!_" muttered Snape, annoyed, his wand pointed at Ron.

"AHH!" screamed Ron, as the silvery light rushed toward him. But when it hit, he abruptly stopped.

"Oh," he said, memory back in place. "Sorry about that Professor. Just...wasn't expecting you."

"Well?" asked the Potions Master. "What did he ask?"

"Er," Ron glanced sideways, toward Luna, who was looking worriedly at him. "He asked how Ginny felt. About Harry."

"And?"

"He used that Lelymensee thing."

"_Legilimency_," corrected Snape. "What did he find?"

"Well, Hermione said that Ginny was over Harry, so that's what I thought, so that's what he found," said Ron.

Hermione looked hopeful at this announcement. "Wait, did he seem happy about that? Or disappointed?"

"Happy. As if he had hoped that she didn't fancy him."

Hermione was smiling fully now. "Ron, I never thought I'd be saying this, but thank the heavens for your lack of listening skills."

"What?" he said confusedly. "Why?"

"I didn't say she was _over Harry_. I said she'd _given up on him_. There's a huge difference."

"So she still..." said Ron, a small grin forming on his mouth.

"Of _course_ she does, you blind idiot!"

"So," said Professor Snape, "the Dark Lord has incorrect information?"

"Yes," said Hermione.

"Good. That's good," said the Potions Master. "It might prove pivotal in the future."

"Is that all he asked, Ronald?" said Luna shrewdly. She'd called him 'Ronald,' so it seemed she was suspicious of something.

Ron swallowed. "Yes?" It was more of a question, as if he was asking for approval. He had no idea how she knew, but...

Luna looked like she was about to comment further, but, unbelievably, _Snape _came to Ron's rescue.

"I assume he wishes to speak with Miss Lovegood, next, correct?" he said.

"Yes!" said Ron, a bit more enthusiastically than was necessary. His face was as red as a Quaffle. "Er...I mean, yes, he does," he said quietly.

"Well, then," he put his mask on once more and cried, "_Obliviate!_"

* * *

"Are you all right, Harry?" asked Ginny worriedly, as Harry came to.

"Yeah," he said. "What happened?"

"You collapsed," she said, breathing a bit easier. "Clutching your scar."

__

"How does your sister feel?" asked the Dark Lord. "About Potter?"

"What?" asked Ron. "What do you care about how Ginny feels? What does that have to do with anything?"

"It has to do with everything, Weasley," he said. "Everything."

"Everything."

"Ron," he said softly. "It was Ron...Voldemort was asking him..." Harry stopped, and swallowed. She had a right to know. "Voldemort asked how you felt. About me."

She looked him in the eye, and said, "And what did Ron say?"

"Nothing," he said truthfully. "I woke up right as he was going to use Legilimency."

She swallowed, and let out a breath. "We should move on," she said, and reached out a hand to help him up. He took it, and felt a familiar feeling in his chest.

"Thanks," he said, as he got to his feet.

"No problem," she said, and then laughed. "Great lot of good the Pensieve did. I thought Professor Dumbledore wanted to be able to analyse these visions of yours. That'll be pretty hard if you forget them by the time we get back. _If_ we get back..."

"We'll get back," he said confidently. "We'll get them back."

__

And I won't forget them.

* * *

"So," said Snape. Luna had left the room, Wormtail taking her as he took the other two, "you going to tell us what else he asked? Because as Potter's obviously told you, I'm not bad at Legilimency myself..."

"Fine," he said, sitting down against the wall. "He asked if-"

He stopped, and turned his head slightly. "Do you hear that?" he whispered.

Snape and Hermione listened. There were footsteps. Coming toward their room. But not like Wormtail's. They sounded as if, whoever it was, was wearing-

"High-heels?" muttered Hermione confusedly. "What Death Eater wears high-heels?"

"Lestrange!" whispered Snape quickly. He quickly put his mask on - for the hundredth time - and hid once again behind the door.

They heard a female voice, presumably Bellatrix Lestrange's, mutter a charm, and the lock clicked open. But Hermione thought that it didn't sound much like what she had heard of Lestrange's voice. It seemed more...well, _odd_. Not that Lestrange had a pleasant voice, no. This sounded odd in a familiar sort of way. But not like Luna, either.

The door slowly opened. Of course, nothing else could be expected, since when one is in a frightening situation, doors do _not _open quickly, or even at a normal speed. It's a rule.

A figure, obviously female, stepped into the room. They could see only a silhouette, as the only light was coming from behind her, but she did indeed seem more familiar than Lestrange.

The door clicked shut again.

"_Lumos!_"

"Professor!"

For there she was, standing in front of them. The very last Professor they would have expected to see. Except of course, Flitwick, who they had eliminated immediately.

It seemed odd, to see her in black robes. They did not suit her. She was the type of witch who was much more suited to shawls.

"What do you think you're doing here?" said Snape, coming out of the shadows. "Trelawney."

"I have just as much a right to be here as you, Severus. Though I don't know why you are here either."

It was odd, Hermione thought, to see such different professors in the same room. The only other time she could remember was in her third year, at Christmas. But at the same time, she couldn't get the thought out of her mind that she had seen them together many times. Perhaps it was someone else who looked like them.

Snape looked at Trelawney critically. Out of nowhere, he said, "A wizard is never late, nor is he early..."

Trelawney blinked, which was greatly exaggerated by her glasses. Then she said, "He arrives precisely when he means to."

"Er..." said Ron.

"Why did you just quote Tolkien?" asked Hermione, oddly.

"Because Dumbledore forgot to mention that he had another spy in the Death Eaters," said Snape. "Another professor. Well, _former _professor."

"_And_...why did you just quote Tolkien?" 

"Because Dumbledore thought that phrase was perfect to identify the members of the Order. I don't particularly see _why_, but he is Dumbledore, after all."

Ron looked confusedly between the three. "Who's Tolkien?"

"She's a spy?" asked Hermione disbelievingly. "_Her?_"

"I am right here, Miss Granger," informed Professor Trelawney. "Act like it."

"This is a _joke, _right?" Hermione said. "Why is she a spy? What good does she do for the Order?"

"She-"

"I _still _am _right here._"

They ignored her.

"-is... I have no idea what good she does," Snape said, shaking his head slightly. He was thinking hard, trying to come up with a possible explanation, and an even greater crease than normal formed between his eyebrows.

"The Dark Lord wished to have someone with the Inner Eye within his forces, so the Headmaster-"

"Oh, come off it," said Hermione. "There is no way Voldemort believes you have the 'inner eye,'" she said. Then, under her breath, she muttered, "I've often doubted if you even have an inner ear."

Snape seemed to hear her, and almost snorted, but held it in. Ron and Trelawney either didn't hear, or they didn't get it.

"So the Headmaster thought it a good idea I become a spy, so-"

A look of understanding crossed Hermione's face. She shook her head, a smile playing at her mouth.

"No he didn't. He thought it a good idea you become a spy, for the sole reason of making Voldemort _think_ you were a spy. Therefore, he is careful around you, and is probably planning a creative demise for you as we speak, while Professor Snape has no suspicion on him at all, and can do something useful." She looked quite proud of herself.

"That is not true!" insisted Trelawney, though she looked as if she doubted herself a bit, wondering if Dumbledore had indeed thought her expendable.

"If that's not true," said Hermione, living up to her reputation of being rude to Trelawney, "than how 'bout you make a prediction? Can't be too hard can it? You did it everyday in class..."

"The Inner Eye does not see _on_ _demand_!"

"No, of course it doesn't," said Hermione. "It doesn't even get cable."

No one got the joke.

"Wait...I see..." said Trelawney, staring at the wall. "I see-"

"Bricks?"

"_Blood_. Blood will be shed here tonight. Your friend, the Lovegood girl. _She_ should be careful."

"Like that helps much," muttered Hermione. "Is she here? No. So how would we warn her?"

Trelawney continued as though she didn't hear her. "Your friend, _Harry_. He will meet his foe in a encounter unlike any other in _time_..." she said, and it seemed as though she was trying to think of something else. Something a bit more gruesome.

"A _bird_. It looks like..." She squinted, to give a better affect. "It looks like a..._harpy_. It will eat _flesh_ tonight."

"Oh, so a mythical creature is going to swoop down here, eat someone, and then...what?"

"_Pain_. _Great_ pain for your friend Harry."

"Bravo!" said Hermione. "That was _so _convincing."

"Take heed, Miss Granger. I suggest you believe me."

"Or..."

"Your _doom_."

"How dramatic!" 

"So, why did you come here?" asked Ron, after the show seemed to be over.

"To tell you that your friend, Harry, is coming. In fact, he's right outside," she said, giving Hermione a look that said, _Beat that!_

"Oh..." said Hermione, her eyes widening. "So the 'Inner Eye' can..." she paused for effect, "see...through..._windows?!_"

She beat it.

* * *

"Here it is," said Harry, as they approached the Riddle House. He remembered, from fourth year, his vision. He was on an eagle owl, approaching this house from the sky. It was quite different actually walking up to it.

"Wands out?" Ginny asked.

__

"Wands out, d'you reckon?"

"Yeah," said Harry, glad that Cedric had made the suggestion rather than him.

They pulled out their wands. Harry kept looking around him. He had, yet again, the strange feeling that they were being watched.

"Someone's coming," he said suddenly.

He remembered that as well.

__

From far away, above his head, he heard a high, cold voice say, "Kill the spare."

A swishing noise, and a second voice, which screeched the words to the night: Avada-

"Yeah," said Harry. "Wands." He fumbled in his sleeve for his, and held it at the ready.

He moved forward slowly, reaching his left hand out for the doorknob. It was unlocked. Apparently, no one was expected to try to enter the Muggle way, so it hadn't been locked. 

It was pitch dark inside. Not a single light in sight. He took a step in, and swallowed.

"_Lumos!_"

Ginny followed him inside. They were in an cavernous kitchen. They walked toward the door, and Harry was about to look for some stairs down, toward the dungeons, when he heard a scream. From upstairs. It seemed like it was the on the next floor up.

"That was Luna," said Ginny fearfully.

"Then we'd better hurry."

_

* * *

_

Voldemort raised his wand, breaking its connection with Luna. Every bone in her body ached, and she was relatively sure that neither of the others had been subjected to the Cruciatus Curse.

"What was that for?" she asked, lifting her head painfully.

"_That,_ was for my own entertainment pleasure," said the Dark Lord, grinning.

"Sick," muttered Luna, shakily getting to her feet.

"Thank you."

"So, what's your question for me?" she said, and took a small step forward.

"Who said I had a question?" he asked, as if it was an absurd thought.

"Ron."

"Did he? Because I believe I told him that I _wished to see you_. I didn't say I had questions."

"Then what do you want?"

"Answers."

Luna looked at him as if he was insane. Which he was. She put her hands on her hips.

"So, I lied. I do have questions. I just felt like playing with your pretty little head." Her hands went behind her back.

Luna suddenly retched, vomit falling on the rug in front of her. Voldemort smiled widely. He did not hear the small _click_ that had sounded while she threw up.

"_Scourgify!_" he muttered, not even pointing his wand, and the mess disappeared. "Next time, do try to _avoid _the rug," he said, as if it made clean-up a disaster.

He didn't notice the quick smile that passed over Luna's face.

"So, question number one..." he said, unknowingly impersonating a Muggle game show host. I suggest you do not inform him of it. "What do you know of Sybil Trelawney?" he asked suspiciously.

She did not expect such a question. She saw no reason not to answer. "She was the Divination professor, before Professor Umbridge sacked her."

"What else do you know of her?" he said, a bit surprised that she had answered. He was about to look in her eyes.

"Um, some people think she's a fraud, but I think she just misinterprets her predictions."

"Have you ever seen her give an accurate prediction?"

"You mean one where she is _exactly _correct? No," she said truthfully.

Voldemort seemed to think this over. He hadn't noticed Luna slowly coming closer, her eyes on his wand hand. Hermione, had she been there, would have been positive Luna was about to try something idiotic. She may have been right, as Luna herself had quite a few doubts.

"Question two," he began. Luna was merely a couple of feet from him now. He was looking at the wall.

"How do you feel about-" He stopped, and turned his gaze toward her.

He had not expected her to be right next to him. _Did she _float_, or something?_

"What?" he said, raising his wand hand.

"Nothing," she said, as if she was bored, her hands still behind her back.

He blinked. "You are very _odd, _you know that?"

She took her chance. He did not really seem to be focusing on the wand in his hand. She took her hands from behind her back, and Voldemort was quite surprised to see a flash of steel in her right hand. He was quite a bit more surprised to see his wand clatter to the stone floor.

But nothing..._nothing_...could have prepared him for the sight of his _thumb_ falling to the floor.

The knife in Luna's hand _clicked _back shut. Voldemort bent to snatch up his wand, but, as some may know, it is extremely difficult to grasp something with a bleeding stump of a thumb. Hopefully, not _many_ know how difficult.

Luna lifted her right foot, and brought it down on the wand. She slid it backwards, and it hit the wall opposite, bouncing back slightly, green sparks coming from the tip.

It was then that Voldemort remembered to scream. It was rather painful to have one's left thumb cut from one's left hand.

Wandless, the Dark Lord tried to grab the knife from her hand, but she pulled back. He raised his hand, the right one, the one with the thumb. He snapped his fingers, and the wand flew back to him. Blood was pouring over his robes, as he tried to take aim.

Luna had run back across the room, and was nearing the door...

"_Avada Kedavra!_"

...when it opened.

**_

~ Next Chapter ~  
Just Like Old Times 

_**"Time flies."  
~ Vergil ****

~ Coming Soon ~  



	14. Just Like Old Times

Living inside Yesterday  


_Potter47 ** ~ Part Three ~  
Prisoners of the Mind ** _"Time flies."  
~ Vergil **_~ Chapter Fourteen ~  
Just Like Old Times _**

Luna ducked, and the spell flew past her. Right at the people standing in the door way. Luna, from the floor, looked up to see Harry and Ginny.

The flash of green light was headed for Harry's chest. Luna realised that it had not even been intended for her. She heard Harry say some spell, grabbing Ginny around the shoulders and pointing his wand. She couldn't bear to watch, and buried her face in her arm, blocking anything from view. There was nothing that could stop the Killing Curse. Nothing.

Time seemed to stop. She heard nothing. No scream. Nor any other sound. It seemed like the world froze.

She looked up, at Voldemort first, and what she saw nearly gave her a heart attack.

He _was _frozen.

"Luna, are you all right?" said Ginny's worried voice. Luna turned around, and saw that the green light, the Killing Curse, had stopped, in midair. 

Harry had fallen to the ground, clutching his forehead. "What-" he said, trying to block the pain. "What did you _do _to him?"

She stared in amazement for a moment before she realised he was speaking to her. 

"Oh!" she said. "I cut off his thumb."

"You _what?_" he said, staring at the Dark Lord. "How?"

"With my Harpy," she said, and held out the knife.

"Your what?" asked Ginny. "That is not a harpy. Harpies are not..._knives_."

"It's _called_ a Harpy," Luna said. "My father's Muggle-born, and he has always told me to have something non-magical to defend myself with. I thought this would be more useful than pepper spray."

"Right," said Harry. "I suggest we get out of here."

"Wait," said Luna, staring at the Dark Lord. "How did you stop time?"

"I didn't. It's called the _Tempus Fugit_ spell, and I'll explain later."

As they were about to leave, Harry doubled back, and made his way toward Voldemort. In his right, thumbed, hand, was the thirteen-and-a-half inch yew wand. He reached toward it, and pried it from the Dark Lord's hand. Voldemort would be in for quite a surprise when time returned to normal.

They made their way out of the room, following Luna back toward the dungeon cell. The spell would have to be lifted once they got there, but that would be dealt with when the time came.

"What have they been doing?" Ginny asked Luna as they made their way down. It unnerved them that no Death Eaters had been seen. 

"Well," said Luna, "Hermione had been Portkeyed here, and they forgot to take her wand, so when Lucius Malfoy came to the cell..."

She began to explain what had happened in the cell.

"And then Ron said something and woke me up-"

"Ron?" asked Ginny, a small smile tugging at her lips. "You called him 'Ron'."

"Oh, I forgot you didn't know about that. I have been for a while now."

"And then what, Luna?" asked Harry.

"And then..." She stopped walking, and narrowed her eyes.

"What?" asked Ginny.

"I don't remember. I know something must have happened, but the next thing I knew I was being taken to You-Know-Who."

"What about Ron?" said Ginny. "And Hermione. Do you remember them being taken?"

"They were taken?"

"How 'bout we get moving?" asked Harry hurriedly. "I don't know how long the spell takes to wear off, but it must eventually."

"Right."

They kept going, and were soon at the dungeon level. They saw a light, as if that of a wand, from one of the barred windows. They crossed the remaining distance, and opened the door. It was not locked.

"Trelawney?" Harry asked no-one in particular.

"What is she doing here?"

She looked rather odd - even odder than usual - as her eyes were glaring at Hermione, her mouth was half-open, as if she was about to speak, and her finger was in front of her face, as if she was telling Hermione off, _Naughty, naughty! _like she would a small child.

"Looks like she's a Death Eater," said Luna, as if it was to be expected that the Divination Professor was wearing the black robes of the Dark Lord's servants. "You-Know-Who was asking about her, you know."

"A _Death_ _Eater_?" Ginny said disbelievingly. 

"It would seem--"

The reply was cut off as time once again moved at the normal speed. 

"-listen here, little girl," said Trelawney in a voice most unlike her own, "I am sick and tired of you treating me like some sort of fraud. You treat Snape nice enough, and-"

"That is completely different!"

"Oh, really? How?"

"Excuse me?" Snape said to the two witches. "I think there are important matters to deal with at the moment."

"Like what?" said Trelawney rudely.

"Like the fact that Potter is standing right there, along with Weasley and Lovegood."

* * *

  
__

Ow. 

That's the first thought that passed through the Dark Lord's head when time returned to normal.

__

That hurt.

For it is, indeed, quite painful to have one's thumb cut off, bone and all, leaving just a slight stump extruding from his left hand. His wand hand.

Wand.

His wand was gone. It disappeared. The last thing he remembered was casting the Killing Curse, on-

__

Potter!

Potter took his wand. _How in hell did he learn the _Tempus Fugit_ spell?_ It was not at all what he was expecting. Not at all. It was Dark Magic, for starters, and he had no idea that Harry Potter knew - or would be willing to use - Dark Magic.

And now, he was wandless, thumbless, and Potter had got away.

Not to mention the fact that he was loosing quite a bit of blood. Scarlet blood. Maroon. It matched his eyes.

And here's where the problem lies: Even if, by some miracle, one of his Death Eaters would have the power to create a new thumb - as he had done for Wormtail's hand - he would not trust it. It was an immensely complex spell, and not many wizards could do it. In fact, Voldemort had a sneaking suspicion, that only _Dumbledore_ would be able to accomplish it and, of course, _that _was never going to happen.

The only other solution would be to heal it. To seal the wound, and lose all chance of ever having a thumb again. Ever. 

His thumb was throbbing now, and the pain was growing. He was losing focus, from blood loss. He had no choice.

He willed it closed. Concentrating as much as was possible, he willed his wound healed. It was no small task, and - again - not many could do it. Within moments, the wound was healed. He had four fingers on his left hand, and it looked as if he never had another. It would be incredibly difficult to hold his wand, and he would likely have to use his right hand. Meaning a decrease in power. It was like trying to write with a quill in the opposite hand. It never came out how you wanted it to.

Voldemort was many things. He had many talents. But one thing he was not: ambidextrous.

The pain ceased immediately, and with a wave of his hand, (wandless magic would not be a problem) he cleaned the blood. It would not be good, if someone was to acquire something of his, and use Polyjuice. They would be able to control his Death Eaters. Do whatever they wanted. No, that would not be good.

__

He's still here...

The thought came into the Dark Lord's mind, as if a fresh scent had wafted into his nostrils. As soon as he thought it, he knew it was true. Positive. Harry Potter was still in the Riddle House. The Dark Lord could still get him. He could get his wand back.

And with that thought, Lord Voldemort disapparated.

* * *

"Ha!" said Trelawney triumphantly.

"What was that for?" asked Snape.

"I _told _you all he was here. And you didn't believe me! I was right, and you were wrong!" The Divination Professor sounded, not for the first time, like a six-year-old.

"How are you two?" asked Hermione quickly. "Are you all right? Is everything okay? What happened?"

"_Breath_, Hermione," said Ginny calmly. "Slow down."

Hermione took a deep breath, and then said, "_Well_?"

"We're okay, Hermione," said Harry. "We're fine, but-"

"Oh, thank goodness," she said. "We've all been so worried..." Her gaze shifted to where Luna was standing, and, in a different tone of voice, said, "Oh, you brought Luna."

She seemed to think about this for a moment, before realising what it meant.

"You fought Voldemort, didn't you! Luna was with Voldemort. You must have fought him. You must have _won!_"

"Calm down, Hermione," said Harry. "You sound like Dobby. I wouldn't say that I fought him, Hermione. I _saw _Voldemort. But if anyone fought him, that would be Luna."

"Luna?" asked Ron, who had been recovering from the frequent use of the Dark Lord's name. "You fought You-Know-Who? But-"

"I didn't really _fight _him," she said, casually. "I just cut off his thumb."

"You _what?_" said Hermione. "How in the bloody hell did you do that?"

Snape, Harry, Trelawney, Ginny, and Ron all stared at her. She had sworn. _Hermione Granger _had _sworn_. Luna, on the other hand, answered her question.

"With my knife," she said, pulling it out of her robes. She held it at arm's length, as if to let Hermione hold it.

"You _cut off his thumb,_" she said, as if trying to believe it. "You _cut off Voldemort's thumb._"

"That's right."

"But...why?" asked Hermione. "You could have killed him, and been done with it. This all could have been finished-"

"No I couldn't," said Luna confidently.

"Well, why the hell not?" Wow; twice in forty-seven seconds.

"Do you honestly believe that just _anyone_ could kill him? If I tried to stab Voldemort with this knife, it would probably turn around in my hand, and stab _me_, right in the heart."

Ron winced once again, but he wasn't sure if it was from the stating of the Dark Lord's name, or from the description of Luna being stabbed. In the heart. He winced again.

"Hermione, you're a smart person and all, but you haven't lived in the wizarding world your whole life," said Luna. "In the Muggle world, anyone can kill anyone. It's simple. They shoot each other. Poison. Bombs. But here, things are a whole lot more complicated. And I bet that he's not the only one that not just anyone can kill. There are probably others."

Hermione looked somewhat hurt. She wasn't sure if Luna was insulting her intelligence or merely...doing something else, but that fact alone hurt her. If she couldn't tell, then that didn't say much for her brain, did it?

Snape, who had been looking at Luna as if she had predicted the future, said, "You are correct. Not _anyone _could kill the Dark Lord. But it just so happens that the only one who _could--_"

But before he finished the sentence, a very soft _crack_ sounded from by the door. Everyone turned, and they realised for the first time that seven people were not meant to fit in this room at one time.

"What was that?" Ginny asked softly, whether to the room at large, or to Harry, who was next to her.

He swallowed. "That was someone Apparating."

"But it was too soft. When Dad Apparates, you can hear it through most of the house. That _couldn't_ have been someone Apparating..."

"Oh, but it could..." whispered a soft voice in her ear. The next thing she knew, an arm was around her neck, making it hard to breath. But it wasn't an ordinary arm. No. Something was just..._off._

**_ ~ Author's Note ~ _** Sorry for the short chapter. I decided that part three should have six chapters, instead of five, and part four should have four chapters, so this one kinda got left out. And the chapter title contest will be extended until the end of chapter sixteen. Please review anyway. Thank you. ** ~ Next Chapter ~  
Children of the Mind ** "It was the best of times, it was the worst of times,  
it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness,   
it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity,  
it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness,  
it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair,  
we had everything before us, we had nothing before us,  
we were all going direct to Heaven, we were all going direct the   
other way—in short, the period was so far like the present period,  
that some of its noisiest authorities insisted on its being received,  
for good or evil, in the superlative degree of comparison only."  
~ Dickens  
**_   
~ Coming Soon ~  
_**


	15. Children of the Mind

Living inside Yesterday  


_Potter47 ** ~ Part Three ~  
Prisoners of the Mind ** _"It was the best of times, it was the worst of times,  
it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness,   
it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity,  
it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness,  
it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair,  
we had everything before us, we had nothing before us,  
we were all going direct to Heaven, we were all going direct the   
other way—in short, the period was so far like the present period,  
that some of its noisiest authorities insisted on its being received,  
for good or evil, in the superlative degree of comparison only."  
~ Dickens **_~ Chapter Fifteen ~  
Children of the Mind _**

The stench was nauseating. The thumbless hand grasping her throat. The feeling of the recently bloody stump of a thumb on her neck made her sick. It was a disgusting feeling that she never would wish on anyone. A feeling that she hoped she would never experience again in her life. A feeling that was all too familiar, yet entirely new at the same time.

She tried to cry out, the hand moved up, covering her mouth now, preventing any sound from escaping. Everyone just stood there, looking on. Someone had to do something. Anyone. Anything.

"Let her go!" she heard Harry's voice cry.

"That is what you would want, Harry, isn't it? Me to just let her go, so you could just go back to your little school, and live happily ever after. That's what you want, right?" He laughed. "Not until you give me what _I_ want."

"Let her go!" he said again. "Or I'll...I'll..."

"What?" came the high reply. "You'll what? You'll _kill me?_ Is that what Dumbledore's been telling you? That _you_ can kill _me_? Dumbledore lied. No one can kill me. Isn't that right, Severus?"

She could feel the grip on her changing a bit, as the Dark Lord turned to face the Potions Master. The only thought in her mind was that one of the three people with wands in the room (not including Voldemort's which resided in Harry's left hand) should do _something._ She'd settle for an _Accio Ginny! _if that was what it took to get her out of Voldemort's grip.

"No, Harry. You can't kill me. But I _can _kill her. If you don't give me my wand."

A new thought formed in her mind. Quite a different thought. _Don't do it Harry! Run! _She realised that Voldemort, for whatever reason, couldn't just _take _the wand from Harry. It had to be given. And her life wasn't worth anywhere near the preciousness of that wand. If Harry could get away with it, Voldemort's power would decrease considerably. The Order could win. Harry could win. _Take the wand, and run! _she mentally screamed.

"Give me my wand, Harry." The other hand clenched itself around her neck. Not tightly, just as if to send a message. Somehow, she could _tell _that the Dark Lord's eyes were looking at Harry. No..._into _him. Not at him. She could feel it. Somehow. "Or I will kill her. I will _kill _the girl you..."

The words started to blur into each other. She couldn't tell what anyone was saying anymore. She was slipping. Either from lack of oxygen, or some other, more complicated reason. She was losing consciousness. Her head slumped. She blacked out.

* * *

Cold. Very, very cold. Freezing. Stone. Hard stone. Cold, hard stone.

Her eyes opened. Had they been closed? She couldn't remember. Something felt odd.

She looked around. _No...not again..._

Stone pillars towered around her. An enormous statue rose by the back wall of the chamber.

__

The Chamber.

The Chamber of Secrets. 

__

How in hell...

She was back. But... she had been at the Riddle House. With Harry. And Luna. And-

And Voldemort. Tom. Riddle.

"Where are you?" she called, surprising herself. She had expected a hand to be over her mouth, even though it was an absurd thought, alone in the middle of the floor.

"Hello, Virginia," said a smooth voice from the shadows. "I've been wondering when you'd turn up."

"You sure get bored fast," she said, standing. "It's been what? Two days?"

She heard a chuckle, and then, "That was not me, Virginia."

"What the hell do you mean?" she spoke to her invisible tormentor.

"I mean as I say. That was not me."

"Then who are you?" she questioned. She was not expecting the reply that she got.

A tall, black haired boy, emerged from the shadows. She could hear his footsteps on the grimy floor. He was smiling.

"I am you, Virginia."

Another footstep, behind her. She spun around, nearly slipping on the floor to see-

Herself. More specifically, an eleven-year-old version of herself. Striding out of the shadows, with an odd walk. It would not have been odd, had it been the boy walking, it looked wrong on her.

"And you are me," said the girl, walking toward the boy. She smiled as she neared him, but it looked forced. As if someone had made a frowning face out of clay, and then decided to make it a grin. He smiled back. The both faced Ginny.

"And we are one in the same," they both said, a glint in the boy's eyes, and emptiness in the girl's.

"No," said Ginny, not believing them, even though, who else could the girl be? Lily Evans? Virginia Arden? No. That was _her_. Ginny. "What is this? How am I..."

"Us?" asked the girl. "How are we you?" 

"Yeah," whispered Ginny. Normally, it would not have been anywhere near loud enough to hear at such a distance. But this was most definitely _not normal. _It was not a common occurrence, even in the wizarding world, to be talking to your younger self. It was illegal, actually.

"You created us," said the boy. "We are, as you might say, the children of your mind. We are exactly as you see yourself. Two different entities. Innocent little Ginny," he gestured to the girl, "and me. Evil. The part of yourself you hate. That torments you daily."

He laughed again. "But not _nearly _as much as _him._ When he..._forgot_..."

__

Shut up! she mentally screamed.

"No, I don't think I will..."

Her eyes widened. "You can..."

"Come on," said the girl, smiling. "It's our mind, too. Of course we know your thoughts."

Ginny tentatively stepped toward the two figures. Again. "Why am I here?" she said, walking, inch by inch. "What happened?"

The dark haired boy had a malicious look in his eye for a moment, but then Ginny was sure she'd imagined it. "You died."

"I _what_?" 

"You died," he repeated. "From the loss of oxygen. Voldemort killed you. Because _someone_ wouldn't save you..." He smirked.

"I...I'm dead? Then why am I here?"

"You cannot guess?" he said. "Why else? You're dead, and this is your hell."

"_What_?"

The girl seemed to be trying to say something, but couldn't seem to open her mouth.

"After all you did...killing the roosters...petrifying the Mudbloods...after all that, do you honestly think you'd go anywhere else? You're evil. You're in your own private hell. Not that evil is a bad thing..."

The girl, who had been struggling, forcefully tore open her mouth. "No! He's lying, Ginny," she seemed to be out of breath from the excursion, "you're not dead. This isn't hell. You're not evil." She turned on her...well, her _brother_, and stepped on his foot.

"Ow!"

"I _hate _it when you do that!" she whined. "Just let me talk!"

"You talk to much. And you spoiled my fun."

"That sure is a sick way to have fun!"

Ginny, while relieved after watching this exchange, knowing she wasn't in hell, that she wasn't dead, for the first time understood why her brothers thought her annoying. She _did _talk too much, sometimes, didn't she? And did she really _sound_ like that?

"Yes," the boy said. "You do."

"Stop that!"

"Can't help it. Your mind is like a...well, like a _something_ that is freely accessible to me."

"And such a _way with words_ he has, too," said the girl.

"Well, I have always been able to charm the people I needed," he said, taking it as a compliment.

"You're worse than the twins," she muttered.

"_No!_" he said, mock-disbelievingly. "I'm only the personification of evil!"

"QUIET!" yelled Ginny. "That is _really _annoying."

They stopped arguing, as if she had some sort of power over them. But whatever it was, it couldn't help them from shooting nasty looks at each other.

"What am I supposed to be doing?" she asked. "How do I get back?"

"How would we know?" said the boy. "This is the first time you've dropped in. We haven't taken lessons on this, you know."

"I suppose you'll just have to wait," said the girl, considerably nicer than her brother.

"I am _sick_ and _tired_ of waiting," she muttered, thinking of how they had had to wait to come back to the present.

"We know."

"Urgh!"

"No, I don't mean because we know how you had to wait to get back to the present; I mean that _we've_ just been sitting here for the past three years. Waiting. You have no idea how sick I am of 'hide and seek,'" the boy said disgustedly.

"Wanna play?" asked the girl happily.

"No, er," Ginny had no idea what to call the girl in front of her, "_Ginny_."

"Pity," she muttered.

"So what _did _happen to me?" asked Ginny. "Why am I here?"

"You blacked out," said the girl, glaring at her brother. "I'm sure that he's very worried about you."

"Who?"

"You know who," said the boy.

"_What_?" Ginny was horrified by the thought.

"No, calm down, Ginny," said the girl. She stepped on his foot again. "Not _You-Know-Who_; I meant that _you knew who_ I was talking about."

She turned to her brother again, and raised her foot threateningly, "Stop speaking in riddles!"

"I can't," he said. "It's part of the job description."

"I wish I was an only child," muttered the girl.

"We know," said the boy, and Ginny.

Just then, something, (she would've thought it wind, had they been outdoors) knocked Ginny off her feet. She fell to the ground, and hit her head on the stone.

The boy reached down, and turned her over. Her face was blank, her eyes closed.

"Well, I guess she went back," he said regretfully. "It'll probably be awhile before she comes again."

The girl seemed to be thinking, and then said cheerfully, "Wanna play hide and seek?"

* * *

Her eyes opened; they were running. Harry, Ron, Hermione and Luna. She didn't know where the professors were. She didn't know where Voldemort was. She didn't know how she was moving...

Oh, Ron was carrying her. Like a little girl. She shook her head slightly, as if to clear her mind.

"Ron?" she said. He was looking ahead, watching where they were going. Luna was in front of them.

"Oh," he said, looking down hurriedly. "You're awake."

She looked around, and said, "How did we get out? What happened?"

He seemed to be contemplating whether or not now was the time to tell the story. Apparently, it was. "Harry. He leaned toward You-Know-Who as if to give him the wand-"

"No! I'm not worth that! Harry could win if he had that wand," she interrupted.

"He _didn't _give him the wand, Ginny. It looked like he wanted to, but Hermione whispered something to him. At the last second, before he gave up the wand, he summoned you, like I summoned Luna before-"

"You _summoned_ Luna?" she asked disbelievingly. His ears turned red.

"Well, yes. But that was awhile ago. Doesn't have anything to do with this."

"Right."

"Well, he caught you, but the wand slipped out of his hand. His wand. Harry's wand. You-Know-Who took it. So Harry has You-Know-Who's wand now, and You-Know-Who has Harry's."

"But..." said Ginny. "How did we get out? Why didn't he just kill us all?"

"I dunno. Maybe he was scared to use Harry's wand? Who knows?"

"I don't think he would be. He used it before. In the Chamber."

Ron blinked. "In the Chamber?" he asked. "The Chamber of Secrets? How would you know? You were unconscious."

"Oh," she said remembering that her memory of Tom Riddle using Harry's wand was not from her own point of view. It was from Harry's. She still didn't know how that happened. "I'll explain later." She wasn't sure she actually would, but she might.

"What happened to Harry, anyway?" said Ron.

"What do you mean?" she asked worriedly.

"I mean...he just seems _different _now. Different than before you - you know - went back."

"Different?" she asked.

"Yeah," he was talking quieter now than before, so only she could hear. "He is insane. He was trying to convince me to let _him_ carry you. I have no idea why. And don't you think he'd be a bit more useful with a wand? Since when has he wanted to carry you? _Could _he even carry you? I mean, you're small and all, but he's not much taller."

"Er...how should I know?" she said not-too-convincingly. "Speaking of carrying me, I believe that I can walk by myself."

"Oh, right." He stopped for a moment and set her down. She was a little unsteady at first, but she managed.

They were at the stairs. As they hurried up, Luna was the first to notice Ginny walking next to them.

"You're awake!" she said, which alerted Harry and Hermione to the fact. They stopped and looked around.

"Yeah," she said. "I'm awake." She paused for a moment. "Why are we just standing here?" she asked, shaking her head.

"Oh!" said Hermione, and she charged on. Harry looked at Ginny oddly, but he went on as well.

When they reached the top of the stairs, they turned left and headed for the kitchen. What they found, they were not expecting.

"It's good to see you again, Harry," said the not stuttering voice. "You too, Ginny."

"Potter," came the cold voice of the Potions Master. "I suggest you run. Now."

**_~ Author's Note ~ _** Once again, this chapter is a bit shorter than I had hoped. Hopefully I'll be able to make up for it. Please review anyway. Thank you. (If you are going to enter the chapter title contest, you'd better hurry up. Results are going to be posted next chapter.) **~ Next Chapter ~  
Cheating the Hangman **Be assured, the wicked will not go unpunished,  
but those who are righteous will escape. ~ Proverbs 11.21 **_ ~ Coming Soon ~ _**


	16. Cheating the Hangman

Living inside Yesterday  


_Potter47 ** ~ Part Three ~  
Prisoners of the Mind ** _ "Be assured, the wicked will not go unpunished,  
but those who are righteous will escape."  
~ Proverbs 11.21 **_ ~ Chapter Sixteen ~  
Cheating the Hangman _**

"Professor!" cried Hermione.

"I...said...RUN!" shouted Snape.

"Harry," said Hermione, "we can't just leave him!"

"Yes you can, you idiots!"

"Who said anything about _running_?" asked Wormtail, smirking.

They were standing in the kitchen of the Riddle House. Professor Snape sat on the floor, by the table. His hands bound to one of the legs. Wormtail stood next to him, wand drawn in his silver hand, pointed at Harry's chest.

"What are you doing, Wormtail?" he asked, surprisingly calm.

"Keeping _you_," the man said, "from escaping."

"Wormtail," said Hermione, "there are five of us. There's only one of you. What chance do you think you have?"

"Oh, you won't hurt me," he said. "You can't. Or I'll kill him."

"Damn it, Potter, you_ hate me. _Do the world a favor, and _go_!" He motioned toward the door with his bound hands.

Harry stared at the man in front of them, Voldemort's wand raised. Ginny stood, next to him, wand also at the ready. Luna had a hand on her knife. Hermione was already thinking of the best way to get Snape free.

"Bloody Gryffindors," muttered Snape. "Potter, you are _much _more important than even you know. Do not waste your life. Get out of here. Disarm him. Kill him if you have to. Just get out of here. Now."

"No," said Harry. "I'm not leaving without you." He didn't sound much like himself. He sounded confident. He sounded as though he was a hero in an old movie.

"Ginny," said Wormtail, smiling. "Long time no see. You sure have grown. In fact you've become quite a pretty girl."

He cast Harry an oddly furtive glance as he said it.

"Shut up," she said, swallowing. "Where is she?"

"Who?" he asked.

"Trelawney. Did she get away? What did you do to her?"

The rest of the students had completely forgotten about the Divination professor. They hadn't thought once about her since escaping Voldemort.

"_She_," he said, looking oddly proud for some odd reason, "Apparated as soon as she could. She didn't stay behind, trying to fend off the Dark Lord like _someone_ we know. To me, Severus, that seemed a bit Gryffindor like. Shame on you." He raised a finger in front of his face, as Trelawney had done, and scolded the Potions Master like a child. This was a very different Wormtail.

"What happened to you?" asked Luna. "You're acting differently than before."

"Right you are, little girl," he said, despite the fact that Luna was an inch or two taller than he. "I came up with this plan all by myself, as soon as Severus arrived."

"What d'you mean?" asked Hermione. "How did you know S-_Professor_ _Snape_ came?" She looked like she was scolding herself for the slip.

Wormtail laughed. "I thought you were smarter than that, Hermione. Do you honestly believe the Dark Lord took no measures concerning security? To see what was going on in your little room? We saw some pretty interesting things, you know. Not the least of which being: Severus. Not even I saw that coming. Though, another interesting segment was when you two," he pointed to Ron and Luna, "were sleeping. Certainly looked cosy." He smirked. Ron's ears were redder than the Dark Lord's eyes.

"Oh, and that bit where you discussed little Ginny's feelings for...someone." He smirked once again, but this time in Ginny's direction. She looked, disbelievingly, at Hermione, who looked guilty. "You had the Dark Lord fooled, Ronald," he said. "No small task. Sorry to say, but the Dark Lord doesn't like being fooled."

Luna, who had been standing next to Ron, took a rather large step toward Hermione. Then another.

"Wormtail," said Harry, "let him go."

"And why would I do that?" he asked. "Why should I do what _you_ want, Potter? I'm supposed to be keeping you here. That wouldn't keep you here."

Harry looked at him oddly. "I could think of a reason."

"Oh?"

Luna, as Wormtail was busy with Harry, took another step toward Hermione.

"You owe me," he said. "Are you telling me you _forgot_?"

"I do not," Wormtail said shiftily. "What would I owe you for?"

Harry looked at him incredulously. "What would you owe me for? For saving your life."

Wormtail looked nervous. His eyes darted from face to face, as if trying to see if Harry was telling the truth. He apparently didn't like what he saw. 

"No..." he said. "I-I...you're lying. You didn't save me. When would you..._why_ would you...no..."

Hermione seemed to have been thinking seventeen steps ahead of everyone else, as usual, so she had already realised, that-

"It's a trick."

"What?" asked Ron, looking away from Wormtail. "What's a trick?"

"This whole thing." Her eyes were wide, and she didn't seem to be focused on anything in particular. She seemed to be in a daze, now that everything had clicked. "Our kidnapping. Escaping Voldemort. He-he planned it. From the beginning. He's not even here. And neither is Wormtail."

"What are you talking about?" said Wormtail. "I'm right here."

"Yes, _you're _right there. But you're not Wormtail."

"Of course I am, you stupid girl!"

Hermione reached into her robes, and pulled out Lucius Malfoy's wand. She pointed it at him, and muttered something under her breath. A flash of blue-white light erupted from the end of the wand, hitting him squarely in the chest. His eyes widened-

And widened. And widened. Frames materialized around them, which slowly connected. Hair started to grow on his bald head, and he, himself, started to grow. Actually, it soon became clear that he, himself was, in fact she, herself. Her fingers lengthened, and earrings popped into existence on her ears. 

"_You_!" said Snape from the floor. "What the hell are you doing?"

"Obeying my Master," she said mistily.

"I thought as much," said Hermione, nodding, "Trelawney."

"That's _Professor _Trelawney to you!" she said, enlarged eyes glaring.

"No, it's not. You're a Death Eater, and I haven't been your student for over two years. Not to mention the fact that _no one _has been your student since you were _sacked_..."

"Trelawney!" cried Luna, drawing attention to herself.

"That fact was established already, Lovegood-"

"Catch!" 

Glinting metal flashed in the air, from Luna to Hermione. Hermione, clearly not expecting such an action, jumped away with a small squeal and the knife clattered to the floor. It spun away from her. It came to a stop directly between Hermione and Trelawney.

"Damn!" muttered Luna. When no one moved, she exclaimed, "Well, pick it up!"

Hermione and Trelawney looked each other in the eye. Then, at the same time, both dove. At the moment, neither remembered the fact that they had wands in their hands, therefore could easily perform a Summoning Charm. In fact, Hermione had, once again, forgotten she was a witch. 

"_Stupefy!_"

The flash of red light connected with Trelawney and, with a thud, she fell to the floor.

"That was just _bad_, Hermione," said Luna. "Haven't you ever played Quidditch?"

"No, she hasn't," said Ron regretfully.

"What did you do that for?" asked Hermione picking up the knife. "Why'd you throw it?"

"Let's see," said Snape, rolling his eyes, "could it have _anything_ to do with...the Professor over here that's bound to the table?" he asked sarcastically. "But, _no_... a _knife _could _never _help with _that_."

"Sorry!" Hermione clicked open the knife and walked over to the Potions Master. She cut the ropes tying the professor to the table, and he stood.

"Well," Luna said, "that was unexpected."

"Yeah," said Ron. "How'd you know that wasn't him?"

"Well my first inkling was when she said, 'Not even I saw that coming.' Why would Wormtail have seen it coming? It didn't make sense."

"But..." said Ginny. "How'd you know the rest? About the kidnapping? And that You-Know-Who wasn't here?"

"Tell you in a minute," she said, binding Trelawney magically. She handed the knife back to Luna, and said, "_Mobilicorpus!_"

As though invisible strings were tied to Trelawney's wrists, neck, and knees, she was pulled into a standing position, head lolling unpleasantly. She hung a few inches above the ground, limp feet dangling. 

"Let's go," she said, and without another word, she motioned them to move out the front door. It had begun to rain, since Harry and Ginny had arrived, and they weren't entirely sure if it was day or night. They went out the door, confused, and Hermione followed, walking backwards so the professor floated out last. As soon as the black robed Trelawney passed the threshold, several scarlet robed wizards and witches jumped up from various places. Some were behind bushes, some behind trees. All dripping wet. After a few moments, a final one came running out of a diner, sandwich in one hand, wand in the other.

"I knew it," muttered Hermione under her breath, "and so did Voldemort."

Two of the figures, a witch and wizard, came forward from the group. Both were immediately recognisable. The tall, black man was Kingsley Shacklebolt, and the purple-haired witch was obviously Tonks. 

"Are you okay?" she asked as they neared the group. She peered at the floating body. "Who's-Trelawney!"

"Yeah," said Hermione. It seemed that the rest of the group had decided to sit back and let the scene play out. They had no idea what was going on. No one ever did when Hermione had a revelation.

"We'll take her," said Kingsley, who was decidedly surprised when Hermione handed the wand to him.

"But don't you-"

"It's not mine," she said. "It's Lucius Malfoy's."

"Is he still in there?" he asked hopefully, looking into the doorway.

"I doubt it."

The talk of wands reminded Harry of the fact that only he and Ginny had them. Even if his wasn't really _his._

He pointed the yew wand into the kitchen, and called, "_Accio wands!_"

Five wands flew through the Riddle House, speeding toward Harry's outstretched hand. It unnerved him how..._right._..the wand in his hand felt. It worked just as well as his own, which was not a pleasant thought. He caught the wands, and handed them off to the owners, minus Trelawney, who, of course, wouldn't be needing hers. He handed that one to Tonks.

Just as he was putting Voldemort's wand into his robe, he felt a surge of pain unlike any he had felt before. Worse than even the Cruciatus. But that wasn't the bad part.

No, the worst part of the pain, was what it represented.

Voldemort was happy. _Very_, _very_ _happy_.

* * *

The Dark Lord smiled down at the glowing orb in his right hand. It was his. After all the years he had waited. It was finally his.

If he was a very different person, he would have been quite tempted to say, "_My precioussss...._" but, alas, he was not.

His Death Eaters, just about all of them, had accompanied him on this excursion. It had worked, just as he had hoped. And now he could defeat him. Finally, he would know the key.

"C-can we go?" stuttered the real Wormtail. Voldemort knew what troubled him. It was obvious really; if a dead man was found in the Ministry of Magic, it would be quite clear that he was _not _a dead man.

"In a minute, Wormtail. Patience is a virtue." The Dark Lord laughed at the hypocrisy of that statement. 

He looked up and down the group of Death Eaters, smiling.

"_This_," he held up the orb, "is what we've been _seeking_ since my return. You could not obtain it before. That was not your fault. The fault lies with _Crabbe_. And, as I have said, he has paid for it dearly. But, I assure you, no one will be punished this time. This has worked perfectly.

"I have the prophecy."

* * *

"The prophecy..." murmured Harry. "I have the...prophecy..."

Harry's eyes slowly opened, and he was not expecting Ginny to be kneeling right next to him, bent over him, looking worriedly at him. He was on the floor, in the Hanged Man. It seemed he had been moved since he collapsed, presumable because of the rain.

"Prophecy?" she said. "What prophecy?" 

"Voldemort," he said, sitting up. "He was in the Department of Mysteries. Hermione was right. It was a trick."

"Of course she was right," said Ron, who had noticed Harry was awake. "She's always right when she goes and has one of those _revelations_. Never fails. Course, this time it didn't lead her anywhere near the library, which is new."

"It's not like I _could _go to the library," she said, coming closer to the group, and kneeling like Ron and Ginny. "That's what got me into this mess, remember? The book portkey?"

"I'll never forget that one," said Ron, grinning. "Almost as good as Lockhart...Ow!"

"You deserved that," said Hermione smugly, after poking Ron in the back of the neck with her wand. He jumped about a foot in the air, and did not look very...good, as he did so.

"I better not have anything on my neck!" he said, trying unsuccessfully to see the back of his neck.

"Oh, don't worry," she assured him. "You don't have anything on your _neck_."

Ginny stifled her laughter. Harry had trouble with his.

"W-what did she do?" asked Ron, his eyes wide. "What did she do to me?"

He looked at his arms, legs, elbows, and knees, and just about every other part of himself that he could see. 

"Nothing," said Ginny seriously.

"No, nothing," agreed Harry.

"I don't believe you," said Ron disbelievingly. With good reason, as they were not telling the absolute truth. Actually, they were plainly lying. Anyone could see what Hermione had done.

His nose was covered in dirt. It wasn't just a bit, like it had been on the Hogwarts Express before their first year. No, it was more like his nose was just...brown.

"Luna!" he called, turning away from the group. She looked up from the one-sided conversation she had been having with the Snape.

Ginny and Hermione helped Harry off the floor. Harry knew he should probably tell someone more about his vision, but he couldn't seem to do it. And the hand on his arm was rather distracting as Ginny helped him walk over to where Luna was standing.

"Luna," said Ron. "Is there anything...off...on me? Hermione did something, and they won't tell me what."

Luna looked at Ron evenly, and said seriously, "I see no difference." Snape looked at her oddly.

Ron let out a breath of relief. "That was good, Hermione. You almost had me fooled." He held his pointer finger and thumb about a couple centimetres apart. "_Almost_." 

Hermione struggled to keep a straight face. "Yeah, I guess I'll just have to try harder next time," she said, feigning disappointment.

Harry looked around. Other than the five friends, only Snape was in the pub, watching the goings on, leaning against the wall. The Aurors clearly were investigating the Riddle House.

"Hermione?" asked Ginny. "You never said...how did you know everything was a trick? Other than just Wormtail."

"Malfoy," she said. "You weren't here, but he was talking about a prophecy." Harry's head snapped up. "Saying that it was the reason everything has happened. The reason Harry has his scar. From the start, I'd thought that there must have been another reason for kidnapping us. Other than just to lead you here."

"And?" asked Ron.

"It was all a set-up, to draw the Order here. So that Voldemort could get this prophecy. It all fits. The prophecy must be the weapon that he's been trying to get. The thing he didn't have last time. And it's in the Department of Mysteries."

"No," said Harry. "It's not."

"What d'you mean?" she asked.

"He has it. He has the prophecy. I just saw it."

As soon as he said that, she turned around, grabbed the pot of floo powder, and tossed it in the fire. "Dumbledore's office," she said, stepping into the flames. It was clear that she thought anymore talk a waste of time, and that they should get to Dumbledore as soon as possible.

Ron went next, but not before Luna muttered, "_Finite Incantatem!_" He didn't notice a thing, as the dirt faded away. She smiled. Harry realised that Dumbledore must have done something to his fireplace, preventing intruders, as it would have been only too simple for Death Eaters - or Umbridge for that matter - to get in. He also must have done something so that they _could _get through.

After Ron, Luna went into the fireplace. Snape then departed, leaving Harry and Ginny.

"How'd ya do, Mr. Potter, Miss Weasley?" came a voice behind them. The two spun around, and were face to face with Dot.

"How did you know my name?" asked Ginny. "I never said my name. I never said anything."

"Just 'cause I'm blind, don't mean I can't see," she said, as if she had been insulted. "In other ways."

"How?"

She smiled. "Ya didn't answer my question. How'd ya do?"

"H-he got away," said Harry. "He got what he wanted."

"Not everythin'," she said matter-of-factly. "Not everythin' he wanted."

"Well, yeah," said Harry. "I'm still alive. For now, at least."

"That s'not what I meant," Dot said. "The two o' you are together. _Both _o' you are alive_. That_ he didn't want. Not at all. He still 'as weakness. It's not as though he's won, er anythin'."

"He as good as won," said Harry dejectedly. "He's happier right now than he's been since I was born."

The woman shook her head. "It's as if he was in a room with, say, twelve doors. It seems simple, how to get out; one of the doors is marked, 'exit.'" She made a rectangle with her hands. "It seems obvious that that's the door to choose, right?"

They nodded.

"Right?"

"Oh," said Ginny, realising that they had nodded again. "Yes. It does."

"Well, he's found the door marked exit, but where does it lead?" she said.

"What?" said Harry. "What are you talking about?"

"'S not always as simple as it seems, Mr. Potter. Ya don' always get what you expect. But ya gotta do yer best with the cards yer dealt."

"I still don't get it," said Harry shaking his head.

"Let me put it this way; he has what he wants. You know that. But, what if the thing he's been after don't live up to his expectations? What if it jus' tells him what he already knows?"

"That's a bit wishful thinking," said Harry.

"There's a simple solution to every problem, Mr. Potter," said the old woman, turning around and walking, with her cane, toward the back room. "Neat, plausible, and _wrong_. Don't expect this to end in a day er two. Don't expect him to know all he needs, so he can come kill ya in yer sleep. And watch yer head. Ya may be in fer a nasty shock."

And she was gone.

"Er...we should probably go," said Harry.

"Yeah," said Ginny. "Probably."

And so they went. Through the fire. Back to Hogwarts.

**_ ~ Author's Note ~ _** Confusing, eh? I thought so. Just so you know, the whole Trelawney/Wormtail thing was **not** _Polyjuice. If it was, then her glasses and earrings would not have transformed with her. And that's the end of part three. Part Four, Living for Tomorrow, includes the final four chapters. Then it's only the epilogue and this fic's done! * * *_

Hereby ends the chapter title contest. In case you skipped the Author's Note on Chapter Ten (Shame on you! Wait...why are you reading this one?), the contest was for you readers to determine the origins of the first ten chapter titles. Of course, you assumed that chapter _thirteen_ was included in those first ten...

Anyway. Since some people obviously do not _read_ when they are gazing at their computer screen while it says "Living inside Yesterday" upon it, I've decided to count those Chap. Thirteen answers as correct. Lucky you, Ari! That makes five! (Well, no, it makes four, but the lyrics count as two! Why? Cause I said so! And four's all you need, anyway. By the way, is "Ari" your real name? Or is it from "Planet of the Apes?" Or am I assuming?).

Here they are! The - _dun, dun, **dun**! -_ answers!

**_ Part One - The Shadow of the Past _** Chapter two of "The Fellowship of the Ring." Also, the first part of the BBC audio version of LOTR. (Thank you, Chromatix, for that second part). **_ Chapter Two - Identity Crisis _** The actual thought inside my mind while naming this chapter was of episode thirty-six of _CSI: Crime Scene Investigation._ However, I believe Erik Erikson, an American psychoanalyst, coined the phrase. Why's it called _coined,_ anyway? **_ Chapter Three - Riddle Me This _** On the off-chance that you _don't_ know this, "Riddle Me This" is what the Riddler says on "Batman" (No, it isn't the _Joker. _Why would the joker say "riddle?" You know who you are.) Also, as I discovered a couple weeks ago, "Riddle Me This" was also used by Kate Lynn as a chapter title in her novel-length, "The Broken Victory," which can be found at the Ink Pen in its entirety. **_ Chapter Four - See if You're Human After All _** Ah, the first song lyric. This is one of the first lines of Lifehouse's "Trying," which is track five on "No Name Face." It goes: _ Could you let down your hair   
And be transparent for a while   
Just a little while   
See if you're human after all   
_ To someone who has read my previous works, this should have been a piece of cake. In fact, I named an entire story this (Draco/Hermione, BEWARE). Also, in one of my first (and worst) fics, "Yours and Mine," the song is featured, sung by Hermione. **_ Chapter Five - Riddles in the Dark _** Chapter five of "The Hobbit." In fact, the quote in this chapter is _from_ "The Hobbit," from this very chapter. **_ Part Two - Closer to Where I Started _** Opening lines of Lifehouse's "Hanging by a Moment," are as follows: **_ _** Desperate for changing   
Starving for truth   
Closer where I Started   
Chasing after you   
** Chapter Six - Out of the Frying-Pan, into the Fire ** This is chapter _six_ of "The Hobbit." The one _directly following _"Riddles in the Dark." **_ Chapter Nine - Family Reunion _** Now, this is a fairly common phrase, and I wasn't expecting anyone to find the exact one that was in my mind. Actually, I had meant to exclude this from the contest, but I didn't. It's the name of the pilot of the Disney Channel Original Series, "So Weird," the only show that was really worth watching on the channel. Now, of course, they have killed it, buried it, and claimed it never lived in the first place. Damn Disney... sorry, rambling... **_ Chapter Ten - Locked in the Dungeon _** Once again, not a well known source. It's a chapter title on _The Sixth Sense _DVD. I believe its the part with the little cabinet at the top of the stairs, but I haven't seen the movie in a year-and-a-half. 

Now, that's the end of the ones that were _intended_ for the contest, but here's this past part, just so you know:

**_ Part Three - Prisoners of the Mind _** Made it up. **_ Chapter Eleven - Not at Home _** Might as well of called this story, "Harry Potter and the Chapters of Hobbit." **_ Chapter Twelve - Someone to Trust _** Episode 48 of "The Pretender," a show that was cancelled in its fourth season by NBC (NoBodyCares), and revived for two TV movies by TNT. _EVIL NBC! _Also, I gave a hint to this in chapter eleven's author's note, as I mentioned tP as the source of the "Curious George" reference. **_ Chapter Thirteen - The Subtle Knife _** Tehey Subteelay Caneefay. Sorry, I just like calling it that. This is the second book in Philip Pullman's "His Dark Materials" trilogy. My favorite of the three. Originally, this chapter was going to be called "Blood by the Moon," which is a reference within a reference within a reference. First, the "Blood by the Moon" would be referencing my fic, "The Quill is Mightier than the Wand," which is a reference to Thomas Harris' "Red Dragon." "_Have you ever seen blood in the moonlight, Will? It appears quite _black." I don't know if that's the exact line, but it's close enough. Oh, if you like this, plus the title for Chapter Two, read "Ghosts from the Past," by RaajmdTMP. It's not nearly done, but rumor has it that it's going to be a trilogy. But you know what they say about rumors, so... **_ Chapter Fourteen - Just Like Old Times _** Chapter title on the _Red Dragon_ DVD. **_ Chapter Fifteen - Children of the Mind _** I'm surprised that no-one got this one. "Children of the Mind" is the title of the fourth book in the "Ender" series by Orson Scott Card. The chapter was inspired by this book, as well. **_ Chapter Sixteen - Cheating the Hangman _** I think this was a chapter title on the _Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves _DVD, which stars Alan Rickman (Snape, for the three people who don't know) as the Sheriff of Nottingham. 

And that's it for the chapter titles. Let's have a look at the submitters:

__

ZagZig722   
- Part Two

Ari  
- Chapter Three  
- Chapter Five  
- Part Two  
- Chapter Thirteen

dementorchic  
- Chapter Thirteen Chromatix  
- Part One  
- Chapter Five Hallowbaye  
- what are you talking about? ocnaniml16  
- TITANIC, not TITANTIC, but you still win (the last few lines of chapter ten). Anyone who submitted on HarryPotterFanfiction.com, I couldn't check the reviews today (3/13/04), as my stupid computer won't show the page. If there was anyone - which I can't remember - I'll post the names next chapter. Now, it's a shame no-one got chapter four's title, as I said that "_Anyone who can match at least **four** **(4) **correctly will win a **Living inside Yesterday **wallpaper...ABSOLUTELY FREE!_" That specifically meant that if you could find the origin of "See if You're Human After All," you get the wallpaper. But, oh well. The two winners of the wallpaper are (until I check HPFF.com) _ocnaniml16_ and _Ari. _ Hang on, Ari never gave an email address? How am I supposed to give a wallpaper to an anonymous review? Review with email, or email me, if you want that wallpaper Ari! Now! Please? I'll send the images as soon as I can. By the way, no-one submitted a guess to where the title "Living inside Yesterday" came from, so I'm not gonna tell. You can still get the wallpaper if you send an email with the correct answer. _Hint: This story could also be called "Harry Potter and the House of Life." _ _

* * * Hope you liked the end of part three. Stay tuned for the final four parts, and the epilogue. Please Review. (And visit my website, Polyjuice Parodies, at www.polyjuiceparodies.cjb.net. 

__Or_ if you are too lazy to copy that address into the bar atop your screen, simply go to my profile, and click on the link beside "Homepage.")  
Thank you. ** ~ Next Chapter ~  
Truth be Told ** "Prophet!" said I, "thing of evil! — prophet still, if bird or devil! —   
Whether Tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore,   
Desolate yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted —   
On this home by Horror haunted — tell me truly, I implore —   
Is there — is there balm in Gilead? — tell me — tell me, I implore!"   
Quoth the raven "Nevermore."  
~ Poe **_ ~ Coming Soon ~ _**


	17. Truth be Told

Living inside Yesterday  
_ Potter47 ** ~ Part Four ~  
Living for Tomorrow ** _ "Prophet!" said I, "thing of evil! — prophet still, if bird or devil! —   
Whether Tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore,   
Desolate yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted —   
On this home by Horror haunted — tell me truly, I implore —   
Is there — is there balm in Gilead? — tell me — tell me, I implore!"   
Quoth the raven "Nevermore."  
~ Poe

**_ ~ Chapter Seventeen ~  
Truth be Told_**

They arrived, in Dumbledore's office, to find it nearly deserted. Ron, Hermione, Luna and Snape; all were nowhere to be seen. Only Dumbledore was there, sitting at his desk, gazing into the stone basin that was the Pensieve; and Fawkes, who was softly trilling from his perch. So softly, in fact, that Harry nor Ginny were truly sure if it was the phoenix, or an echo from a distant past, lingering within the room.

Dumbledore looked defeated. His face looked as old, if not older, than Harry had ever seen it before. He looked, and Harry had never thought he would, like a weak old man. Not at all like one of the most powerful wizards in the world. His eyes, most definitely not twinkling, appeared lifeless. Overall, he did not look good. It was as if he had built the perfect toy - something he had wished for his entire life - and it was stolen away before he ever got to play with it.

"Please sit down, Harry," he said tonelessly. "I need to talk to you. I should have...a long time ago. Virginia, I would appreciate it if you -"

"Ginny can stay," said Harry, at once, before Dumbledore had a chance to finish. 

"No," said Ginny awkwardly, "it's all right. I'll just go-"

"Please," said Harry desperately. He hadn't tried in the least to conceal the feeling in his voice. He didn't know if he should have, or not. But he felt that whatever Dumbledore needed to say - and he was quite sure it was important - he did not want to hear alone. That he shouldn't have to hear it alone. And Ginny, after all that had happened...everything that had changed, in the past few days.... She was only one he would want with him. Regardless of any romantic feelings. She would understand.

Said feeling was not hard to notice by Ginny, and she did not protest further. In fact, she felt the same; he shouldn't have to deal with, whatever it was, alone.

"As you wish," said Dumbledore. He didn't look pleased with himself. Not at all. He looked as if he had just used the last of the tricks he had hidden up his sleeve, and had no idea how to move forward. 

Harry and Ginny walked over to the Headmaster's desk, and sat in the two chairs before it. It was hard to believe that they had just sat there not even yesterday, before going to the Riddle House. Everything, since the night in the Ministry, had happened so fast and yet so slow all at the same time.

"I had hoped," said Dumbledore, after a minute or two, "to have good news to tell you, when you returned. And there _is _good news to tell, I assure you, but that will be for another time. Tomorrow maybe. Soon."

He took a deep breath before continuing. 

"Miss Granger...informed me...of your vision, Harry," he said softly. "I have dreaded this for years, you know. That you would find out like this, a cruel reality forced upon you. I had planned on telling you...but I never did. I could have... I _should_ have. But I didn't."

"Tell him what?" asked Ginny, after a few more moments. Dumbledore didn't seem to want to move along quickly.

"Tell him what I ought to have told him five years ago, Virginia," said Dumbledore. "To tell him of the fate that lies before him. To tell him everything."

Harry's heart was racing, and for once it had nothing to do with the redhead beside him. He remembered, in his first year, asking Dumbledore _why _Voldemort had tried to kill him as a baby. Why he had the scar. Why he lived. And the answer to all that...was this prophecy.

"You remember your Divination examination in your third year, Harry?" asked Dumbledore, who seemed to be trying to find the best way to tell his story. "You told me that Sybill had predicted Voldemort's return-"

"Hang on," said Harry. "Did you know about Trelawney being a Death Eater? When she-Wormtail..."

"I was aware that she was one of the Death Eaters," said Dumbledore. "I had hoped she really was working for us, trying to discover information...but alas, she was not. As you told Professor Snape, months ago, just about everyone who calls Voldemort the 'Dark Lord' is, or was, a Death Eater. They don't seem to notice, that they are the only ones. I have, more than once, thought that perhaps he had charmed them so they _must_ call him by that. It is quite a giveaway, to those who realise it, but no one could ever be convicted."

Harry briefly considered asking how Dumbledore knew he had said that to Snape, but decided not to interrupt once again.

"As I was saying," said Dumbledore, "you told me of her prediction. I said, at the time, that it was her _second_ accurate prophecy. The first...had a great deal more consequence.

"Sixteen years ago," he continued, "in a room above the Hog's Head, Sybill Trelawney gave her first prophecy. I was there, interviewing her for the Divination position. I was about to leave, as she didn't seem to have any of the gift, despite her heritage. But then..."

He took out his wand, and touched the swirling surface of the Pensieve. As soon as the tip of wood came into contact with the substance, Harry's scar seared. His hand jumped to his forehead, as a figure of Sybill Trelawney formed from the depths of the Pensieve. He did not lose consciousness this time, and his eyes remained open despite the pain.

Both Ginny and Dumbledore were looking worriedly at him, wondering what he saw. His mouth opened, and an odd voice came from his mouth, at the same time as the figure in the Pensieve. "_The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches...._"

His eyes looked glazed as he continued, still in sync with Trelawney.

"_Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies.... and the Dark Lord will mark him as an equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not.... and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives.... The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies._"

"Merlin's beard!" muttered Ginny, still looking anxiously at Harry, now that he had finished, his eyes coming back into focus.

Harry looked to be struggling to form a coherent thought. When he finally managed to put a sentence together, it was, "So I guess that's the prophecy, then?"

"Yes..." said Dumbledore quietly, his eyes wide as they looked upon the harshly breathing young man in front of him. "Yes, that was the prophecy."

"He...he wasn't happy about it," said Harry, his breathing returning to normal. "He was cursing everyone near him. Malfoy. Wormtail. It..." He stopped, and remembered the words of the old lady. "It didn't live up to his expectations. It only told him what he already knew."

Harry knew it would sound crazy, but he thought that the blind woman may have been a seer.

Dumbledore looked greatly relieved by this. A bit of his usual self seemed to seep back into his body. Ginny looked shocked, she too remembering Dot.

"I had hoped," said Dumbledore, his lips quirked in the smallest of smiles. "I had hoped that this would happen. Over the years, contemplating that prophecy, I had wished that he would not learn what he needed, if he was ever to find it. I thought it was wishful thinking..."

"So did I," said Harry. Dumbledore looked oddly at him when he said it, but he did not comment.

"But," said Ginny. "What does it mean?"

"It means," said the Headmaster, "that Harry is the only one who can defeat Voldemort. He was, as you know, born at the end of July. His parents escaped from Voldemort three times. Voldemort marked him, when he was a year old."

"It said...it said that 'either must die, at the hand of the other,'" said Ginny. "Does that mean..."

Dumbledore was about to reply, but Harry beat him to it. "Yeah," he said, looking Dumbledore in the eye. "I either have to kill, or be killed."

As soon as the words had formed in Harry's mind, he had known them to be true. He didn't know _how _he knew, but he did know.

Ginny looked to Dumbledore, as if hoping he would contradict Harry. Tell him he was mistaken. But the Headmaster merely nodded.

"Neither of us can live how we really want to, until the other is dead," said Harry. It was odd, to be saying these things. It was as if the thoughts had been implanted within his brain. And he _knew_ they were true. 

"I am sorry," said Dumbledore, "that you had to find out like this. It was wrong. I should have told you sooner."

"Yeah," said Harry, "you should have."

"On the bright side," said Ginny, clearly thinking that the conversation was in desperate need of one, "Voldemort doesn't have any answers. It didn't help him."

__

Voldemort, thought Harry. _She said the name._ He didn't know, if she'd always said it. If she'd said it to _him _even. But this was the first time he noticed. It didn't, however, seem to be the first time she said it. She didn't stutter, like Hermione. _And_, Harry realised, _she hasn't flinched once. We've said it a number of times, and she didn't flinch._

For what seemed like the twelfth time, in the past few days, Harry saw Ginny in a whole new light.

She looked over at him, and he realised he'd been staring once again. She touched her hair self-consciously, as if she thought he saw a bug in it, and was just..._staring_. Actually, that didn't seem too good of an explanation. Harry didn't know _why _she touched her hair.

She smiled at him oddly. Dumbledore seemed to watch the exchange with interest.

"What?" she asked curiously.

* * *

Luna, Ron, Hermione and Snape were all waiting downstairs, just outside the entrance to Dumbledore's office. If anyone was to wander upon them, it would be quite a sight. 

Luna and Ron were sitting next to each other on the floor, opposite the gargoyle, waiting for Harry, Ginny and Dumbledore to finish talking about whatever it was they were talking about. Actually, that was what Ron was doing. Luna seemed to be counting the stones that made up the walls of the corridor. She had a calculating expression on her face, eyes narrowed, and every few moments her gaze would move a bit farther along the wall.

Snape and Hermione, on the other hand, were both pacing the corridor; every once in a while, they would check their watches, and turn to glance at the gargoyle. Ron noted that they often seemed to do so at the same time, but neither gave the impression that they noticed.

"Luna," Ron said, after another five or so minutes of waiting, "why do you have that knife?" 

"My Harpy?" she asked, as if she had dozens of knives, and Ron had not been nearly specific enough. She was still counting stones.

"If that's what you call it, yeah, your harpy."

"Oh, Dad thought I should have some Muggle means to protect myself; he's Muggle-born. I thought that a knife would be more useful than pepper spray."

"What's pepper-" Ron began, but was cut off by Hermione.

"Why did you choose a Harpy, anyway?" she asked, as if the question had been killing her ever since she saw the knife.

"Oh," said Luna once again. She turned away from the wall for a moment, to face Hermione. "I read about it in a book. Well, _that_, and I like the little spider on it. It's Spyderco that makes it, you know."

"Spider!" Ron jumped away from Luna, who had been opening and closing her knife, without appearing to realise she was doing so. She was counting again.

He nearly fell over, tripping over his large feet, but he managed to stand up. 

"Oh, relax, Weasley," said Snape, who Ron had only missed knocking over by a few centimetres. "It's a little picture. No one would put a real spider on a knife." Snape shook his head, muttering something about incompetent Gryffindors, once again.

But Hermione seemed to have ignored the whole exchange. 

"You read about it in a _book_?" asked Hermione sceptically, as if _no one _would read about _anything_ in a _book. _It was _unheard of_.

"Yes," said Luna. "I did."

"Looks like you two have something in common," said Ron, still hiding behind the Potions Master.

"Yeah," said Luna, looking at Ron out of the corner of her eye. "Something."

* * *

"Professor," said Harry, looking away from Ginny. "What about the rest?"

"Rest?" asked the Headmaster.

"Yes. The rest of the prophecy. What does it mean?"

"You do not know?" Dumbledore inquired. "You seemed to understand the former quite well on your own." He stopped for a moment, taking a deep breath. "I'll answer as best as I can. What do you wish to know?"

"Well, the beginning. 'Born to those who have thrice defied him.' How did my parents defy Voldemort three times?"

"Ah," said Dumbledore, looking slightly surprised. "I had not foreseen that question."

"Well?" asked Ginny. "How did they?" She seemed to want to know just as much as Harry.

"The first time," said Dumbledore, thinking back, "was in...nineteen seventy-eight, actually. Shortly after you two appeared. School was about to close for summer, and your parents were finishing their seventh year. But, just days before term ended, Voldemort struck.

"It was a kidnapping. Your parents, Sirius, Remus, and Wormtail were taken captive by the Death Eaters. And, as they informed me afterward, were each approached, and taken to speak with Voldemort. He...offered them power. He wanted them to join him, just as Voldemort asked you at the end of your first year."

Once again, Harry wondered how Dumbledore knew that. Harry knew that the Headmaster had been watching him, but it was as if he had put a little camera on him and had been viewing him on a television screen.

"He tried to make them believe," continued Dumbledore, "that there aren't such things, as _good_ and _evil_. That there is only power and those too weak to seek it. We had all thought, afterward, that the plan failed. But...we had not _known_ about Wormtail."

"How did they escape?" asked Ginny curiously.

Dumbledore opened his mouth, perhaps to explain how it was that Harry's parents, and the rest of the Marauders, got away from Voldemort...but then closed it again, as if thinking better of it.

"Not today," he said, shaking his head slightly. "There were others involved, and I'm not quite sure that they wish for you to be told. I will...ask them. Perhaps they will say it's all right. But for now, that is where the story ends."

"What about the others?" asked Harry. "Thrice defied him, so there's two more."

"Yes," said Dumbledore. "Two more. The second was soon after the first. After James and Lily finished school, they joined the Order, as you know. Alastor told me he showed you a photograph."

"Yes," said Harry, remembering the picture Mad-Eye had shown him at Grimmauld Place, at Ron and Hermione's party. He would have rather forgotten, actually.

"They were cornered by Voldemort, only weeks after joining. He once again tried to tempt them to join him, but they refused. They escaped because of, as your father liked to call it, 'bloody good luck.'" The headmaster chuckled softly, and the two students smiled.

"And the final time...was when you were born."

"What?" asked Harry. "How did they defy Voldemort when I was born?"

"Wait a moment," said Dumbledore, raising a hand. "I need to explain further the preceding events." He cleared his throat. "Sybill's prophecy was given almost one year before you were born, on a wet August night. You can imagine the frustration, knowing that a saviour was in the works, but having to wait _a whole year_, for him to be born. In fact," Dumbledore said. "For nearly a week, everyone was confident that someone _else_ was 'the one.' A boy that was born on the twenty-fifth of July. Do you have any idea who that is?"

Harry thought hard, trying to remember anyone born only a week before him. They would have to be in his year, of course. But who? Ron was born in March...Neville was born in...when _was _Neville born?"

Apparently, Ginny knew. "Neville," she said. "That's Neville's birthday, he told me so at the Yule Ball."

"Precisely," said Dumbledore. "The Order was convinced it was Neville Longbottom, who had the power to vanquish Voldemort. It seemed plausible, considering his heritage. By the thirtieth, there was not a doubter among us. Some had suspected the possibility of James and Lily's child, as they knew you'd be born soon. But they had only defied Voldemort twice.

"And then..."

"Harry was born," said Ginny.

"Yes," said Dumbledore. "Voldemort, who had heard some of the prophecy, also suspected Harry as 'the one,' and therefore, showing impatience worthy of record books, set out to kill you before you were even born. He kidnapped your mother. No one knew how, at the time, but once again, we did not know of Wormtail.

"Ironically, if he had not tried to kill you, you would not have survived. Your Muggle grandparents were going to visit your parents that day, and, sadly, they were followed. It was a group of Muggles actually. Murderers. They followed your grandparents to your house...and killed them."

Harry blinked. He didn't see a connection.

"What does that have to do with-"

"You see, Harry," said Dumbledore. "If your mother had not been kidnapped, she and your father would have been at the house when the Muggles came. They likely would have been killed as well, and you never would have been born.

"This was the thirtieth of July, remember. The day before you were born. Again, Lily escaped, with the help of...the same person who helped the first time. The next day, she gave birth to you. 

"The rest you know; a little over a year later, your parents went into hiding, using the Fidelius Charm, and Voldemort attacked soon after."

Dumbledore, having finished his story, took another deep breath.

"Is there anything else?" he asked.

__

Yes! thought Harry, dozens of questions forming in his mind. _What were my grandparents like? Did you know them? Were they anything like my aunt? Please say no..._

But Ginny asked a question, one he hadn't even thought of, before any response could fully formulate in his mind.

"What is the _power the Dark Lord knows not_?" she asked.

Harry realised he should have thought of this, as it was probably important. Leave it to Ginny...

"Yeah," said Harry. "I can barely run the DA, how am I supposed to defeat Voldemort?"

That was not how he intended to phrase the question. He meant to say something like, _What power do I have that Voldemort doesn't? _or, _I don't have any power!_ He had not meant to mention _Dumbledore's Army _in front of Dumbledore himself.

"What are you talking about, Harry?" asked the old man. "I thought you did a splendid job running the Defence Association..." He winked.

"The power?" he asked, as if to confirm the question. He looked from Harry, to Ginny again. "You can't guess?"

Harry shook his head, and Ginny said, "No."

The Headmaster smiled. "I think you'll be able to figure it out on your own, Harry. It's rather obvious, really."

He looked knowingly between the two, and ushered them out of the office. 

Standing behind Ginny, on the stairs, Harry had no idea what power he was supposed to have. But, as he was standing _behind Ginny_, he didn't much care.

**_ ~ Author's Note ~_**

I would like to take this opportunity to announce the _Yesterday Sequence _Yahoo! Group. What is this italicized _Yesterday Sequence_, you ask? Well, this here fic you're reading, "Living inside Yesterday," is the first of a planned four (4) story series. I called it a "sequence" because I think it sounds better, and when I looked at "series" in my computer's thesaurus, the top synonym was "sequence."

Now, you may already know of this Group, if you happened to be one of the thirteen people I sent invitations to. Or, if you are there right now, reading this, and wondering why the hell I'm informing you of your current location. A couple group members, (there were eight the last time I checked,) seemed to just pop out of nowhere, as I have know clue how they found the group. 

On this group there will be, obviously, the story. New chapters will be posted there, (or here, depending if you are reading this on the group or not,) one day prior to their posting on any other sites. Any images made for the story (including the wallpaper that was sent to winners of the chapter contest [minus Ari, as she doesn't seem to have an email address.]), will be posted on the group when I get the chance (the aforementioned wallpaper will not go up until LiY is completed, so as to give the aforementioned winners of the aforementioned chapter contest some sort of advantage). 

Oh, a note from the last chapter: there _were _no entrants from HPFF.com. None at all.

Oh, one last note: the title of the fic, "Living inside Yesterday," is from Lifehouse's song, "Am I Ever Gonna Find Out?" thusly:

_ In between this  
Am I gonna find a way  
To defeat this  
**Living inside yesterday  
**I'm alive I think it's time to live  
Like I am  
_

Thanks to **dementorchic **for finally getting that right. She'll be getting the (aforementioned) wallpaper, before all you lazy other people that didn't even try. (I'm still amazed at how well that title worked. I'm listening to the song, trying to _think_ of a title and...boom! Perfect!)

Also, I received a complaint about this chapter's quote. Apparently, someone was sick of Edgar Allan Poe, and hadn't wanted to have to look at another of his poems. Well, _hope_fully, the next quote is more to your liking.

**_ ~ Next Chapter ~  
Over the Rainbow _** "Who knows how long we've got; a week, a month, a year, a life time? We have to make the most  
of whatever time we've got, otherwise we'll only regret the things we could have done, but didn't."  
~ Imogen **_ _**

~ Coming Soon ~


	18. Over the Rainbow

Living inside Yesterday  
_ Potter47 ** ~ Part Four ~  
Living for Tomorrow ** _ "Who knows how long we've got; a week, a month, a year, a life time? We have to make the most  
of whatever time we've got, otherwise we'll only regret the things we could have done, but didn't."  
~ Imogen **_ ~ Chapter Eighteen ~  
Over the Rainbow_**

As Harry and Ginny emerged from the stone gargoyle, Snape, Hermione, and Ron all spun their heads around. Luna, however, was staring at the stone wall beside the entrance to Dumbledore's office, and didn't seem to notice a thing.

"Harry! Ginny!" exclaimed Hermione, rushing over to greet them. Her announcement seemed to awaken Luna from her reverie, and she too looked up.

"What did he say?" asked Snape, who, once again, seemed to be looking _through_ Harry. 

"That's for Harry to tell you," said Ginny. "When he decides to," she added, as Ron opened his mouth.

"Nothing," said Harry monotonously. "Nothing important, anyway."

He was looking at Luna's hand, almost longingly. Clasped within her fist was the knife. He had just realised, seeing that knife, that it could have ended. He could have _killed _Voldemort, when the _Tempus Fugit _spell was in effect. Luna noticed his gaze, and swiftly put the knife away. Or _did_ she notice his gaze? She was looking at the wall again...

"Well," said Hermione, "we all should probably head to our dormitories. We haven't slept in ages."

"But Hermione," said Ron. "it's the middle of the day. How are we supposed to go to sleep?"

"I gather you had no trouble sleeping in that _cell_," said Professor Snape icily. Ron's ears, once again, turned red.

"All right then," he said quickly. "Let's go!"

He set off down the corridor.

"Ron," said Luna, not looking up.

He stopped walking, and turned toward her. "Yes?" his voice was oddly high pitched.

"It's the other way."

"Right." He set off once again, but in the other direction.

"You go ahead," said Ginny, to Hermione and Luna. She was looking out the window, across the corridor. The sky was beginning to clear. "Harry, I need to show you something."

"Yeah," said Harry, a little brighter. "Sure."

Hermione smiled slightly. "Let's go, Luna."

Snape seemed to be watching the happenings, waiting for them all to leave. It was as if he was recording the goings-on, and needed to remember them in detail. He didn't move an inch when Hermione and Luna walked past, the former glancing back briefly. He had a look of intense concentration on his face, and he seemed impatient for the corridor to clear. 

"Come on, Harry," said Ginny. She began to walk in the opposite direction of the others. Harry followed silently.

Once the two had turned a corner, Professor Snape muttered, "_Nil Desperandum_," and the gargoyle sprang to life once again. He walked onto the wizarding escalator, and the wall closed behind him.

He didn't notice a certain someone turn around, and take one last look, as the stone wall sealed.

* * *

Harry and Ginny walked silently for what seemed, to Harry, to be a long time. He had no idea where she was leading him, and she didn't seem to be planning on telling him any time soon.

"Where are we going?" he finally asked.

"You'll see."

She quickened her pace, and glanced out the window. Harry had to run to catch up. 

__

I thought I_ was fast, _he thought. _Dudley _never _would have caught _her_._

They headed up a staircase, and then another. Harry began to recognise the path they were taking. _But why would she lead me there?_

After a final set of stairs, they emerged onto the top of the tower. Surrounding them on all sides, were the stands for telescopes. They were on the Astronomy Tower.

__

Astronomy Tower...

What?!

The Astronomy Tower had a..._reputation..._as a place for couples to...express their feelings for each other. Not that he didn't _want_ to be there with _Ginny_, but...why did she bring him there? 

"Er... Ginny?" he said nervously. "Why are we on the Astronomy Tower?"

She was standing by one of the telescope stands, looking over the wall.

"Look," she said, gesturing to the vastness around them. 

He looked up, and what he saw took his breath away.

A rainbow stretched across the length of the castle, and he had never seen anything like it before. No other rainbow that he had seen, in his fifteen years, was anything like this. Instead of the usual array of colours, there were only four: blue, green, yellow, and red.

__

The house colours.

The effect was, literally and figuratively, _magical. _The four colours alternated their places. One moment, red was next to blue, the next, it was next to green. Then yellow. This in itself was amazing, but it was nothing compared to what it really meant.

Red, green, blue and yellow. The four houses. Gryffindor, Slytherin, Ravenclaw, and Hufflepuff. All together, not caring which was which. Gryffindor was just as important as Hufflepuff, and Slytherin, and Ravenclaw. They were all equal. All united.

__

If only the Sorting Hat could see this...

"Wow," was the only word that could form in Harry's mind.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" said Ginny, glancing back at Harry.

"Yeah," he said, enthralled. "Who did this?"

"Who else?" she replied. "The founders, of course."

"How do you know that?" he asked, still not looking away from the rainbow.

She smiled. "I read it, in _Hogwarts, a History_..."

Harry's head snapped down. "You've read _Hogwarts, a History?_ I thought only Hermione and Riddle had read that book."

She stopped smiling. "Well, I had to do something with all those copies." She looked down at the stones that made the roof of the tower.

Harry was confused. "What? What copies? When?" he asked.

"My first year," she said, still not looking at him. "_Imagine_ my _surprise_ when I found a dozen copies of _Hogwarts, a History_ stashed under _my bed!_ However could they have gotten there?!" She hastily wiped a tear from her eye. "Apparently, Tom didn't want anyone reading up on the Chamber, so he made me...he made me steal all the copies from the library."

"Er..." Harry had no idea what to do. He remembered Christmas break, when Ginny had told him that he hadn't been possessed by Voldemort. It had comforted him, knowing that. But Ginny _had _been possessed. _How am I supposed to comfort_ her_?_

"It's all right, Ginny," he said awkwardly. "That was a long time ago."

"But it doesn't seem it!" she cried. "I almost had it behind me. _Almost!_ And then we go back, and...and he takes me again. You have no idea what that's like! And then those so-called _children_...and then-"

"What?" interrupted Harry. "What children?"

"Oh!" she said. She didn't have enough hands to wipe away the tears anymore. "You didn't know about _that!_ I was haunted by me, myself, and I! And the _other _me, and _him_..."

"What?" said Harry again. Ginny was becoming hysterical. He had no idea what to do. This was supposed to be the other way around. She helped _him. _All year, it had been like that. He just now realised that.

"Never _mind_, Harry!" she said. "I can't believe this! I bring you here to comfort you, and now _this!_ _You _were supposed to be the one that needed help!"

__

That sounds familiar...

"It's okay, Gin," he said. "Everything's gonna be all right."

"Oh, _that's _comforting! _Everything's all right! It's over now, Ginny!_ Well, it's _not _over, Harry! It's not going to be over until Voldemort is dead! I have nightmares _every night!_ I know you have them too, and I'm sorry that I'm acting like a little girl, but it just isn't _fair!_"

"I know it isn't fair, Gin," he said. "I'm an expert on what's not fair. Nothing's been fair for a long time." He took a breath, and realised just how important his life was. "It's about time life was fair again."

"Yeah, it is," said Ginny. "It's about time." She smiled a little.

It took him a minute to notice the pun. Then he smiled too.

Little by little, the tears stopped coming, though Ginny's face was still covered in them. 

Harry realised then, just how close they were standing. He must have walked closer without realising it. He was only a few inches from her. 

__

He could have counted the freckles on her nose. 

"I really like you, Harry."

He could not think. A tingling sensation was spreading throughout him, paralysing his arms, legs, and brain.

She was much too close. He could see every tear clinging to her eyelashes...

Freckles...tears...eyelashes...

"I really like you, Ginny."

* * *

"Come in, Severus," said Dumbledore, when he heard a knock on his office door.

"How much did you tell him?" asked the Potions Master, striding into the room swiftly, and taking a seat across from the Headmaster.

"I told him everything," said Dumbledore. 

"_What_?" demanded Snape. "You told him-"

"Everything," corrected Dumbledore, "that does not pertain to you."

Snape let out a breath he hadn't realised he was holding. 

"Good."

The Headmaster looked questioningly at Professor Snape, as if waiting for something.

"I believe I asked you something before..."

"Oh," said Snape. "Yes, the students. Weasley was doing his best to watch Miss Lovegood without letting her know, but he wasn't doing a very good job of it. She was pretending not to notice.

"Miss Granger was...pacing. She wasn't doing anything else, save for waiting for Potter and Miss Weasley to return. She frequently consulted her wristwatch-"

"Sorry to interrupt," interrupted Dumbledore, "but what time is it?"

"Twelve-thirteen," said Snape automatically.

"Thank you," said Dumbledore, smiling. "I believe I should pick up a Muggle watch this summer...maybe one of those _digital _ones Arthur Weasley has been talking about... He says that they are much easier to read than wizarding ones..." He paused. "You were saying?"

"Potter was acting odd when he came down," Snape continued. "Miss Weasley took him somewhere, presumably to cheer him up."

"That is all?"

Snape nodded.

"Thank you, Severus," said Dumbledore. "You may return to your position as Headmaster."

Snape flinched, as if he had forgotten what position the circumstances had put him in.

He muttered threateningly as he left the office, "McGonagall better hurry up and heal..."

* * *

"What?" asked Ginny, blinking.

Harry could see the rainbow reflected in her bright brown eyes. He tried again.

"I said, I really like you. I think...I think I might..." He blushed furiously, and muttered the last two words. 

"What was that?" asked Ginny, smiling slightly. "I couldn't hear that last bit."

"...love you," whispered Harry, his eyes closed, so he couldn't see the look on Ginny's face. It had to be bad. She was over him. Why did he say it out loud? He had been perfectly fine with thinking it for the past...however long. He didn't know what was happening, when he felt pressure on his lips.

He slowly opened his eyes. He hadn't been expecting..._that_.

Ginny was kissing him. _She's kissing me! _See, I told you; Ginny was kissing him.

He had only begun to grasp the fact that Ginny Weasley was kissing him, when she pulled back. Only a few inches. She was crying once again, but he had a feeling it wasn't for the same reason. "I love you, too."

Harry's world exploded in happiness when he heard those four little words. Before he knew what was happening, he was kissing her again. _He_ was kissing _her_. It most definitely did not feel as though he only had wanted to do this for the past couple days. It was more like he had been waiting his whole life.

Ginny broke away, after a while, and chuckled softly. _She's laughing? I'm not _that _bad a kisser am I?_

"What's so funny?" he asked worriedly. "Was I that bad?"

"No!" she said hurriedly, still laughing. "It's just...I'm crying."

"Yeah?" he asked, not comprehending.

"Harry, I'm _crying!_" she said, laughing, as if it was the funniest thing in the world. _Which it is _not_..._

And then, suddenly, it was.

Harry started laughing as well. It felt good to laugh. Especially with Ginny.

Something clicked in Harry's mind. "Love," he murmured, once their laughter subsided. "It's love."

"Yes, we established that fact already, Harry," she said. "You love me, and I love you."

"No, that's...that's not what I meant. I mean..." He took a breath. "I mean _it _is love. The power. In the prophecy, the _power the Dark Lord knows not_. He doesn't know love." His face broke into a grin. "And I do."

The Astronomy Tower was silent for what seemed to be an hour or two, but it was probably a minute or so.

"So," said Ginny, finally breaking the silence, "does this mean we're..._together?_" No one could fail to notice the hopefulness in her voice.

"We bloody well better be," said Harry. "If you just snog random guys on the Astronomy Tower-" She cut him off with another kiss.

"You know," said Harry, pulling away, "I reckon that's a much better way to shut me up than yelling at me."

"Both work though, don't they?" she said, grinning.

"I guess," he said, the humour gone from his voice. His face was serious again.

"What is it?" asked Ginny worriedly.

"If he...if he knows...knows that we're a...a 'we' he..." Harry stopped, and pulled back from Ginny.

"Oh, no you don't," she said, pulling him back. "Harry, we'll deal with that." She smiled. "I've waited five years for this, and I'm not letting you back out just like that."

"But...he _can't _know. _No one _can know, or he'll find out-"

"-then we don't tell anyone," she said simply. "I reckon it's a bit too late for Dumbledore, though. I think he's known for years."

"Probably."

Harry was beginning to breath a little easier. "So we don't tell anyone?"

"Right."

"That's going to be impossible. How are we supposed to keep this from _Hermione_? She'll figure it out the minute we go back."

"Well," said Ginny, "_anything_ is possible, if you've got enough nerve..." She rubbed her chin for a moment, thinking. "Aha! It's simple. A foolproof way of not letting anyone know."

"Well?" asked Harry impatiently.

Ginny had a wicked gleam in her eye. "We _don't _go back. Not anytime soon, anyway."

Harry smiled. "Works for me."

**

_ ~ Next Chapter ~  
Throne Away _

**

"You see things; and you say, 'Why?' But I dream things that never were; and I say, 'Why not?'"  
~ Shaw

**_ ~ Coming Soon ~_**


	19. Throne Away

Living inside Yesterday  
_ Potter47 ** ~ Part Four ~  
Living for Tomorrow ** _

"You see things; and you say, 'Why?' But I dream things that never were; and I say, 'Why not?'"  
~ Shaw

**__**

~ Chapter Nineteen ~  
Throne Away 

"What's the hurry?" asked the Fat Lady, as Ron came marching up the corridor. He looked like a small child, impersonating a soldier.

"Nothing," he said, stopping in front of the portrait. "What's the password, again?"

The Fat Lady chuckled. "That's for _you _to tell _me._"

"Right," said Ron. He strained his mind, trying to recall the password. For the life of him, he couldn't remember. It seemed ages ago, the last time he used it.

"I-I can't remember," he said awkwardly. He couldn't think of another time that he had forgotten the password, in all of his five years at school. "You know me. Couldn't you just let me in this once?"

"Well," said the Fat Lady, "let me think about that..." She rubbed her chin for a moment, before saying, "NO! I've explicit instructions to never admit _anyone_ into Gryffindor Tower, unless they have the password. You could be a Death Eater in disguise. And don't you _dare _try _knocking_..." She shivered at the thought.

"But I can't remember!" he whined. "We've been through a lot, the past couple days, and I just forgot!"

"Oh, so now you're a _we?_"

"No! I-" He now knew how Neville felt. _He _was the one that always forgot the password. 

"Ron!" cried a voice from behind him. He spun around to see, who would've thought, _Neville _striding down the corridor. "You're okay!"

"Yeah," said Ron. "We're fine."

"_Again_ with the _we_..."

"How'd you get back?" asked Neville anxiously.

"Harry," said Ron. He didn't feel like explaining Snape's role in the incident. He still wasn't positive the Potions Master could be trusted...

"Harry's back? And Ginny?"

"Yes, Neville," said Ron, uncomfortably aware of the Fat Lady's suspicious gaze on the back of his neck. "You think we could talk about this in the common room?" he asked, hoping with all his heart that Neville would remember the password this one time.

"Sure," Neville said. "You know the password?" he asked uncomfortably. "I kind of forgot it again..."

__

NO!

"_Fata viam invenient,_" said Hermione, coming out of nowhere. In fact, had it not been Hermione, Ron would have been positive she'd Apparated. The fact that it was her made the thought disappear rather quickly.

"Hermione!" said Neville. "You're okay too!"

"Yes, Neville," she said, "and so is Luna." 

The Fat Lady reluctantly opened her frame. Either she still wasn't sure if they were really who they said they were, or she just wanted to hear what they were talking about.

Hermione went through the hole first, then Neville. When Ron came out the other end, Gryffindors surrounded him on all sides. All of them asking questions. Clearly, their disappearance did not go unnoticed. 

"Where's Harry?" asked Colin Creevey eagerly, at the front of the pack. He snapped a photo of Ron and Hermione, then moved over to get one with Neville too. "We heard Harry was back."

"How-" Ron started to ask, but he went unheard amid the chaos.

"Did Harry Potter really go back in _time_?" asked a first year, who had crawled under the legs of some of the older students, to get to the front.

"Er..." Ron didn't know why so many people were gathered, not to mention how they knew what had gone on.

"_I _heard that Harry Potter and Ginny Weasley ran away together!" a second year girl said proudly. 

"_What?!_" screamed Ron, and this time, he was heard.

"Well, they did, didn't they?" she asked, looking rather hurt, that he didn't seem to believe her. Ron recognised her now, as Natalie McDonald. 

"No!" said Hermione. "They did not run away together!"

"How would _you_ know?" Natalie asked. "You didn't disappear until two days later!"

If he didn't know better, Ron would have sworn Natalie was related to Lavender.

"I heard that you guys blew up the Ministry!" said Lee Jordan happily.

"We did not!"

"_Right..._"

* * *

"We really should go back," said Harry, pulling back from Ginny. "They'll think something happened..."

"Yeah," said Ginny reluctantly. "I guess so."

Harry looked up, as he stood. He hadn't even realised they had sat on one of the benches. The rainbow was gone, and the sky was blue. He didn't have any idea how long they'd been on the tower. How long they'd been...snogging. 

He found it hard to believe the past...however long they'd been out there...had really happened. He felt sure that he'd blink, and Ginny would be gone. Or the dream would change to a vision, and Voldemort would be laughing...

He didn't want to think about that.

Harry and Ginny started the walk back to Gryffindor Tower. After a few minutes, they both realised their hands were clasped. They hadn't even noticed.

"Is this real?" asked Harry, voicing his thoughts. 

Ginny squeezed his hand. "Yes, this is real."

"You're sure?" he asked, unsure.

"_Yes_, Harry," she said, smiling and rolling her eyes.

"Good."

They kept walking, one way, then another, then another, through the winding corridors of Hogwarts. Every once in a while, they would squeeze each other's hand, as if to be sure they were still real.

"Harry?"

The two spun around at the voice, as they had thought the corridor was empty. Their hands broke apart. Standing behind them, was one of the last people Harry expected to see.

"Cho?" he said. "What are you doing here?"

She blinked. "I could ask you the same question. I heard you were missing. What happened? Are you all right?" Her cheeks were slightly pink.

"I'm fine, Cho," said Harry, eager to keep moving. His hand felt wrong, without Ginny's in it.

"Oh, Ginny!" said Cho, as if noticing her for the first time. "You were gone too, right? What happened to you two?"

"Nothing," said Harry and Ginny at the same time. 

Cho blinked again. "You know, I heard this crazy rumour that you two ran off together," she said. "I knew it was rubbish..."

"That we _what?_" asked Ginny disbelievingly. 

"I _know_," said Cho. "Like that would ever happen. Not that you aren't nice and all, but...you're his best mate's sister. It would _never_ work."

Harry was really starting to get annoyed. 

"_Right_," said Ginny, irritated.

"We've got to be going, Cho," said Harry. "See you around."

"Bye," Cho said, and Harry and Ginny walked quickly down the remainder of the corridor.

"I cannot _believe _her!" muttered Ginny once they were out of earshot. "She was acting like she still thought you fancied her! She's only been with Michael for a few weeks...is she _bored _or something?"

"At least she didn't seem to be crying anymore," said Harry, looking over his shoulder to make sure no one was there.

"I just can't believe her!" Ginny said again.

"Neither can I," said Harry.

After a few minutes, they realised that, once again, their hands were clasped. It was as if magnets pulled them to each other. Soon, Cho was incredibly far from Harry's mind. The only thing his brain focused on was his left hand, and the smaller one within it.

* * *

"How are we going to get out of here?" asked Ron. Somehow, he, Neville and Hermione had been led away from the portrait hole, and were in the middle of the common room. Gryffindors surrounded them completely, asking questions and informing them of rumours. It appeared that their housemates were demanding a full life story of each of them. Ron didn't want to think about what it would be like when Harry and Ginny got there. 

"I envy Luna," said Hermione. "I doubt the Ravenclaws are like this."

Ron's mind didn't even register the fact that _Hermione _had said that she envied _Luna_. He just wanted to get out of the crowd.

"Is Snape really going to expel all of Gryffindor?"

"_What?_" said Hermione, outraged. "Why would Snape expel all the Gryffindors?"

"Because he's Headmaster!"

Ron had forgotten about that.

"No, he's not going to expel us. McGonagall will be back in a few days, anyway," said Hermione, quelling the third year's fears.

The portrait hole opened suddenly, and every head in the common room (including Crookshanks, who had been making his way through the crowd to Hermione), turned to see Harry Potter step into the room.

"Harry! Run while you can!" Neville exclaimed.

Harry's eyes widened as he saw the crowd, and reached his arm back out the hole. He appeared to grab something as his other arm reached into his robes, pulling out the thirteen-and-a-half inch wand. He aimed it at Ron.

"What the bloody hell are you doing?!" cried Ron as Harry yelled out a spell.

* * *

"Look!"

"She's back!"

"Loony's back!"

Whispers followed Luna from the moment she entered her common room. Not all were very nice. But she didn't pay mind to them much, as she went to sit on her favourite of the deep blue armchairs. She had found this particular chair when she was a first year, and it seemed no one else ever sat in it. It wasn't near the other comfy ones; it was tucked away in the back of the room, near the portrait hole. It was as if nobody but her could see this special chair...but she knew that was absurd.

As soon as she was safely in her chair, the whispers seemed to stop. She left the mundane world (which, itself, was not-so-mundane), and was in her own place. 

Her own palace.

She sat comfortably upon her throne, overlooking the kingdom. Everything was in order: the Snorkacks were a-snorking, and the Humdingers were a-humming. 

"Queen Luna," said a servant impatiently, who looked conspicuously like Hermione Granger, "the Explorers have just reported. They've discovered _another _breed of Snorkack. They want your advice: should this new breed be called the _Swirly-Tail_ Snorkack, or the _Whirly-Tail_ Snorkack? It is most decidedly urgent!" The girl was leaning toward the entryway of the hall, ready to make a swift exit once the answer had been stated.

"Hmm..." Luna pondered, rubbing her chin. "Well, _does_ it have a whirly tail? Or does it have a swirly tail?"

The servant's eyes screwed up for a moment, as she thought back. "Whirly. Definitely whirly."

"Then the answer is obvious: swirly. It is entirely logical, you see." The Queen smiled at the lesser being.

"_Thank you_, Queen Luna! Without you, this entire breed would have been named the wrong name, and titled the wrong title for _ever!_ What would Logica-Land _do _without _you?!_"

"Simple. Without me, the founder, and queen, Logica-Land would be enveloped in the colossal Envelope of Oblivion, and you, and all the other residents all would be floating around in the Chocolate River, sopping up your supper."

"Of course, how silly of me!" And she dashed out of the hall.

Luna sighed. She missed _him_. He had been gone for weeks, and days, and hours, and lilisks. He was only supposed to be gone a little while. Now it seemed he was never coming back.

A great black bird swooped into the room through the stained-glass window on the opposite end from Luna's throne. As it neared her, it became clear that it was not in fact a bird; it was a harpy. Half bird and half woman, the great beast came to a rest on the perch beside Luna. 

This was Harpia, one of Luna's closest companions. Especially, when _he_ was gone, Luna found that Harpia was a great friend to have; to talk to. But on this particular occasion, the harpy was not here to chat.

"He's back," she told the Queen. "The king has returned."

At once, Luna jumped from her throne, and ran the length of the hall. Her royal robes billowed behind her as she sprinted as fast as she had ever in her life. As she neared the entryway, she was caught up in a loving embrace.

"Ronald!" she exclaimed. "You've returned!"

He smiled down at her. "Of course I did."

The space between their faces disappeared, and the two were lost in a kiss. It seemed lilisks went by before they finally broke apart.

"You're even weirder than we thought."

Luna's eyes snapped open. She was laying on the floor, of the Ravenclaw common room, faces staring down at her from all directions. It was a fellow fourth year, Jimmy Corner, who had made the comment. 

"What?" she asked, sitting up and leaning on her hands.

"You run across the room, fall on the floor, and start snogging thin air. Talk about _Loony_."

Some of the other Ravenclaws laughed. Some looked perplexed. But the two who laughed the most were most definitely Jimmy's brother, Michael, and his girlfriend Cho. They were hysterical with laughter.

Luna, however, simply stood, brushed off her robes, and strode purposefully toward the staircase. She could finish her dream, and she would _not_ be interrupted again.

* * *

The spell that Harry exclaimed was not one that Ron had heard before. To him, it sounded like some kind of freezing spell, but that was not what happened at all. Not to mention, _Why would Harry freeze me?_

It seemed, in fact, that _freeze_ was a rather close guess. But, instead of _Ron_ being frozen, each and every _other _being in the room was frozen. Yes, _being_. Crookshanks was floating in midair, as if he was a glitch in a video game - not that _Ron_ would know what _that _was - and there was no sign of gravity pulling on him.

But Ron was just as he had been before. He could turn, he could walk, and he could yell.

"_What did you do?!_" he screamed to Harry, who was now climbing into the room, Ginny following in his wake. "You froze them! And Hermione too. And Neville."

"I couldn't see them," said Harry simply. "You stood out, with your hair, and the fact that you _screamed._ I couldn't keep all of you moving."

"But- what did you do?" Ron asked, in a rather awed voice as he waved his hand in front of Hermione's nose. "Why'd you freeze them?"

"He didn't," said Ginny, speaking for the first time.

"Of course he did." Ron gestured to the room at large. "It's not like _we're_ going faster or anything."

Harry blinked. Ginny blinked.

"We're _not_, right?" asked Ron unsurely. "Are you telling me that you sped us up so much that they're not moving at _all_?" he demanded.

"Er...yes. I am."

Ron shook his head in disbelief. "Wicked."

The three decided that the only way out of the sea of people would be to keep the spell intact. Thus, they could either leave Hermione and Neville to be picked clean by the vultures, or they could do something. They opted for the latter.

Ron and Harry awkwardly lifted Hermione up, and brought her to the girl's stair. Ginny, laughing, followed.

"Er, Harry?" she asked.

"Yeah?" he grunted.

"Why are you _carrying _her?"

"Huh?" said Ron, struggling to keep balanced. Harry, being a great deal shorter than him, did not hold Hermione at quite the same height. "I thought we decided we were going to-"

Ginny cut him off. "Are you a wizard or not?

"_Mobilicorpus!_"

Hermione floated out of their hands.

Ron's ears turned red. "I would have thought of that _eventually_," he muttered.

"Right."

Ginny floated Hermione up the stairs, still chuckling. 

"We'd better bring Neville up," said Harry, walking back through the crowd. Ron grudgingly followed.

**_

~ Author's Note ~ 

_** One chapter to go! 

**_ ~ Next Chapter ~   
Time to Live _**

"'The time has come,' the Walrus said,  
'To talk of many things:   
Of shoes--and ships--and sealing wax--   
Of cabbages--and kings--   
And why the sea is boiling hot--   
And whether pigs have wings.'"  
~ Lewis Carroll

**_ ~ Coming Soon ~ _**


	20. Time to Live

Living inside Yesterday  
_ Potter47 ** ~ Part Four ~  
Living for Tomorrow ** _ "'The time has come,' the Walrus said,  
'To talk of many things:  
Of shoes--and ships--and sealing wax--  
Of cabbages--and kings--  
And why the sea is boiling hot--  
And whether pigs have wings.'"  
~ Lewis Carroll **_ ~ Chapter Twenty ~  
Time to Live_**

Two days had passed, since the return of the four Gryffindors and one Ravenclaw. Two days of sneaking away from nosy housemates, prying Slytherins, and - in the case of Harry and Ginny - just sneaking away.

At breakfast, on the third day, Professor Snape rose once again, from the Headmaster's chair, and made his way down to the Gryffindor table. It seemed he had just made this trip yesterday, while it also felt like it had happened in a different century.

As he approached, he could see Potter and Miss Weasley sitting much closer than they were customarily sitting - something that wasn't all that difficult to do, as they were not normally sitting very near to each other at all - and he thought someone had to be blind, not to notice.

Weasley - the brother, that is - was staring at what, to the untrained eye, would appear to be space. But the Potions Master could tell that he was, in reality, gazing at the Ravenclaw table.

"Potter," he said, standing behind him, across from Miss Granger. Once he had the boy's attention (as well as his friends) he dropped his voice. "The Headmaster would like to speak with you. Miss Weasley, you as well. Apparently, he has some loose ends to tie." Thinking back to his last meeting with Dumbledore, he severely hoped that the old man wasn't about to spill his secret this time. Potter didn't need to know.

"Yes, Professor," Potter said, making a show of putting the last bit of bacon into his mouth, while surreptitiously dropping Miss Weasley's hand.

"But I'm not done yet..." she said, looking very much like her brother for a moment, as she eyed the remaining food on her plate. 

Snape arched an eyebrow. "Fine then," he said indifferently. "Next time you might want to concentrate a bit more on your meal, instead of-"

"Coming!" she said hurriedly, and loudly, jumping up from her seat.

Snape smirked. "Very well. I believe you know the way."

"Yes, Professor," said Potter. _Develop a vocabulary, boy..._

The two "friends" made their way out of the hall. No doubt _holding hands_ once again, as soon as the door closed.

Snape turned his attention back to the table. Miss Granger had resumed her reading of the - _Is that a potions text?_ - book propped against the milk jug. Longbottom was staring purposefully at his plate, as if trying to decipher a message hidden within it. Weasley was once again staring in the direction of Ravenclaw.

"_Eat_, Weasley," said Snape sharply. The Gryffindor jumped four feet in the air, and quickly shoved a hard-boiled egg whole into his mouth.

"Ron!" exclaimed Miss Granger, her gaze jumping up from the book.

"Huh?" asked Weasley, chewing the egg that - Snape could only imagine - must have been quite _crunchy._

"That egg still had a shell!"

Weasley gulped, which may not have been the best idea.

* * *

Harry opened the door of the Headmaster's office, for what felt like the millionth time in the past few days. Harry thought that another ride on the stairs would drive him insane. Ginny followed him inside, and the door closed behind her.

"Good to see you, Harry," said Dumbledore from his desk. His eyes were much livelier than they were three days prior, and he almost seemed to be a different person. "You too, Virginia."

"What did you want to tell us?" asked Ginny, getting right to the point of the visit.

"Why don't you have a seat first?" Dumbledore asked, smiling, and gesturing to the two seats before his desk. They weren't the usual ones. They seemed very much...squashier. Rather like the one Dumbledore had conjured for himself at Harry's hearing.

"Er...alright," said Harry uncertainly. Dumbledore seemed far more....Dumbledore-ish today. But still, the headmaster had never changed the furniture before.

"I believe you remember our last meeting. I said that there _was_ good news to tell, but that it would be told another day. Well, that day is today. I meant to speak with you yesterday, but I had the sniffles."

Harry had a hard time picturing Dumbledore being sick. It was like trying to think of Voldemort giggling. It just didn't happen. 

"Now, first, I'd like to say that I believe everything happens for a reason. I believe in fate." He smiled oddly. "I suppose you could call me a fan of it."

Harry reckoned this was supposed to be a joke of some sort. But to him, it just sounded like the nonsensical words of a disturbed man. In other words; Harry didn't get it.

"The Department of Mysteries houses many unexplainable things," began Dumbledore. "Things that have been found over the years...over the centuries. And no one quite knows what they all do. That being, of course, why it is called the Department of _Mysteries._" He smiled once again.

"The bell jar, that fell atop you two, was found many years ago. By Muggles. It was quite the discovery; imagine, finding a glass jar that had a bird in it! A bird that constantly repeated the cycle of life, over and over and over. Everyone wished to see this miracle. After a while, the Ministry was able to obtain it. To study. To keep from Muggles.

"They have tried many things with that bell jar. Many, many things. They have put objects inside it; they've put small animals inside it. But, eventually, all departed, except for the bird that was found within it. Once, a man fell into the jar, and became a baby again. And grew once more. One of the more gruesome times was when a man fell in _halfway._ His upper half shrunk; it became that of a baby. But his legs stayed. Repulsive sight, I assure you.

"But only _once _before has that bell jar _fallen_. Once before you two. And, coincidentally, it fell on two good friends. Friends that, unknowingly, were _fated_."

Harry's cheeks lit up, and they matched well with Ginny's ears.

"They were not _quite _like you two, though. There was quite an age difference between them. Much more than just the one year that separates the two of you. 

"She was actually a great deal like Miss Granger. A Gryffindor, very intelligent. The age difference between these two...well, it would be as if Miss Granger was to fall in love with Filius."

"_Flitwick?_" said Ginny, her mouth wide open. "Hermione and _Flitwick?_"

"Virginia, I do _not_ mean to say that Miss Granger is going to fall in love with Filius Flitwick. Not even Sybill would have predicted that. I simply mean that the age difference is similar. Anyway, Filius is happily married. Has been for forty-seven years. No, if Miss Granger was to -"

He stopped short, an odd look in his eye. He shook his head, as if to clear it. But it didn't quite leave. He smiled a bit, his eyes twinkling, before continuing. 

"Back to my tale. The jar fell upon them. It took them back in time. Just as it did for you. But them, unlike you, it took to _three _times. Perhaps two wasn't enough for them."

"But...you still haven't said _why_ we went to those years," said Harry.

"Yes," said Ginny. "It's too much of a coincidence to believe that we just _happened _to land in years when Harry's family was here. And frankly," Harry smiled, "I don't believe in coincidences anymore."

"I was getting to it," grumbled Dumbledore, who seemed to want to enlighten them on the entire life story of this pair, before explaining what they wished to hear. It was how he worked. "I do not know how that jar works. I would like to believe there was a force guiding it. Perhaps fate. Perhaps God; which I _also _believe in. But I believe, that that bell jar brings whoever it falls upon, to the precise years they _need_ to see."

"Need to see?" said Harry. "I think I could have lived without seeing tho-"

"You may have Harry, but Miss Lovegood would not have. And most likely Mr. Weasley, and Miss Granger."

"How d'you mean?" he asked.

"If you hadn't gone to nineteen-forty five, Miss Lovegood would not have been rescued. Voldemort would have killed her."

"But," interjected Ginny, "if we hadn't gone back in time, they wouldn't have been in danger in the first place."

"Would they not have?" said Dumbledore. "Any one of you could have died that night in the Ministry. Ronald. Hermione. Luna. Neville, too. Either of you. Or the Order. Sirius could have been killed."

Harry swallowed. He didn't know if he could've lived with that. It would have been his fault, if anyone died. And if it had been Sirius...well, that would have been quite ironic.

"That's not the important part though," said Dumbledore. "I am simply stalling, as I wish this to be climactic." His eyes twinkled merrily.

* * *

Ron practically vomited the egg back onto his plate. He kept spitting little bits of shell for a while afterward.

Once his mouth was clear, he gulped down the whole of his goblet of pumpkin juice. Beads of orange liquid clung to his mouth, giving the impression that he had grown a beard and moustache.

Snape sneered down at him. "Five points from Gryffindor, Weasley," he snapped, "for your utter lack of manners." With that, the Potions Master swooped away from the table, his black robes billowing behind him, as he returned to the teachers' table.

"Git," muttered Ron, wiping his mouth with his napkin. "I'm not hungry anymore." With that, the Gryffindor swooped away from the table, his black robes billowing behind him, as he exited the Great Hall.

As soon as the double doors had swung closed behind him, a voice made him swing around.

"Hello, Ron."

"Bloody hell, Luna!" he exclaimed, pulse returning to normal. "Do you always have to sneak up on me?"

"I don't sneak up on you," she said matter-of-factly. "You just never see me coming."

He chuckled, shaking his head. "You seem to be back to normal," he said. Luna hadn't seemed herself during their...adventures. She hadn't been saying random things, hadn't been giving her usual aura of dottiness. Of course, _normal_, wasn't the best way to describe her usual self.

"I find that I act oddly if my pulse rises above eighty," she said simply. 

__

Oddly? Ron asked himself. _What does she mean by _oddly? He wasn't sure if she meant that she acted her usual self if she had a high pulse, or...not.

"_Right_," he said. "Well, what did you want to say?"

"Huh?" She quirked a pale eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

"You said, 'hello,'" he said uncertainly. "I assumed you were gonna say something else."

She smiled at him. "Never assume," she advised. "_Never._"

__

Why'd she have to smile? "Er..." Ron had hoped to make it through the conversation unembarrassed. But when she smiled like that... He could feel his ears heat up already.

"Luna," he began. "I've been meaning to ask you something for a while now..."

* * *

"Please, just tell us," Ginny practically begged.

"As I said, you needed to see those years. Something happened in those years. In only those years. Can you guess?"

They shook their heads, hoping that he would not repeat _those years, _one more time.

"In my tale, I told you that the time-travellers were destined to be with each other. The same is true for you two. You saw what you needed to see. The years you needed to visit. Now, can you not guess?" He looked, pointedly, as if he could see through the table, at their clasped hands.

Harry had an idea. He was relatively sure. But he wanted Dumbledore to say it. Ginny felt the same.

"It was in those years..." Dumbledore said, "nineteen forty-five, and nineteen seventy-eight...that Harry's grandparents and parents, respectively...fell in love." 

They were right. Ginny squeezed Harry's hand.

"Professor," asked Ginny, smiling. Something seemed to have been on her mind, and now was as good a time as any to ask. "What is it with Potter men and redheads?"

Dumbledore chuckled a bit, and it almost sounded uncomfortable. He shook his head slightly, and murmured, "It's not just the men."

"What?" asked Ginny. She looked at Harry, who was redder than a Quaffle, and then back to Dumbledore.

"Potter women also seem to have a..._thing_...for red hair." He cleared his throat nervously.

"How would _you_ know that Professor?" asked Ginny wryly.

"Well, Harry's great aunt Emily, she...er..._fancied _me," Dumbledore said very, very quietly.

"You're kidding!" cried Ginny.

"It's not _that _unbelievable!" muttered Dumbledore. "It's not as if _no_-_one_ has had romantic interest in me over the years," he said. "In fact, back when I used to teach Transfiguration..."

He cleared his throat, smiling broadly. A smile that was warmer than any either had seen on his face in the years they had known him (and in the years they had met him). It was as if he, himself, had fallen in love.

Something clicked in Harry's mind. He asked Dumbledore, "Professor? Who was it, that it fell on before? Who were the two people?"

Dumbledore smiled again, and looked at his watch. "Heavens, look at the time!" he said. "I'm _terribly _sorry, Harry, Virginia. I have plans to visit St. Mungo's. I'm supposed to see..." he paused, still smiling, eyes still bright and twinkling, "a friend. A very good friend."

It was not until he was long gone, that Harry and Ginny realised that he was still in hiding. _Must be important..._

* * *

"Yes, Ron?" asked Luna curiously.

"I've just..." He stopped, trying to think of the right way to say it. He wasn't all that good with words. "At the beginning of this year," he started again, "you were in our compartment in the train-"

"Actually," interrupted Luna, "_you_ were in _my _compartment."

"Whatever," he said. "You were in the same compartment as us. I hadn't seen you for..." he shook his head, thinking back, "five _years_. And I was surprised, to say the least. Ginny hadn't told me she still was friends with you. Hell, for all I knew, you were in Durmstrang."

She snorted softly. "Ron, Durmstrang is a boys school. Remember last year? No girls came here."

He wished she'd stop interrupting. This was important. "That's the point. I had _no _idea." Of course, he also hadn't realised that Durmstrang was a boys-only school. "After five years, you just _appear_ again. And you're exactly like you always were. But I...I wasn't."

He stopped, and Luna looked at him expectantly until he began once again.

"Over the years, I changed. I was with Harry and Hermione all the time. I hardly even thought of when we used to go to your house. I even..." He was going to say _fancied Hermione_, but he didn't see any use of it. "Never mind. But this year, I didn't treat you very good." He stopped. "Well. Very _well._" Luna blinked. "See! Hermione has...drilled this stuff into my head since first year, and it's changed me. I didn't treat you like a friend. I treated you like...well, like you were just a strange Ravenclaw." He hoped she thought he'd said "estranged."

Students started streaming out of the Great Hall, and the silence was broken.

"Follow me," Luna said, and started striding down a corridor. Ron followed. And followed, and followed. He supposed she had someplace in particular that she thought no-one would find, but the empty corridors were...well, empty.

"Where are we going?" he called to her, jogging to keep up.

"You'll see."

He followed her, and it took him a while to realise where they were headed. They were going toward Dumbledore's office. In fact, Ron could see the stone gargoyle up ahead. _Why is she bringing me here?_

But they passed the gargoyle. She stopped on the far side of the stone sculpture, and placed her hand against the stone wall. She walked along the wall, counting under her breath, as she touched each different stone.

"Eight, nine, ten, eleven..." She slowed. "Twelve!" She pulled out her wand. She tapped the stone once, twice...twelve times, and muttered something under her breath. The stone seemed to be sucked into the wall, followed by its neighbours. The process repeated until there was a large enough hole in the wall for a person to climb through. She climbed in, and, before he realised what was happening, she had pulled him in as well.

"What is this place?" he asked, rubbing his forehead, which he had bumped on the top of the entrance.

"_This_," she said, lighting her wand, "is a hideaway my mother found." 

"What?" Ron asked, looking around. "I thought your mother died."

"So?" Luna asked. "She came here too. I got a letter from Dad the day this whole thing started. He had started to clean out the attic and found a diary of my Mum's. He...he sent it to me, and I read it. I read pretty fast. She found this during her third year, and used to come here when she wanted to be alone." She stopped, and breathed in. "I can almost smell her here. I don't know if anyone's found it since." 

Ron could see tears starting to form in her eyes. 

"Of course, at the end of the letter, Dad says, 'I decided to stop cleaning the attic, as I know you'd love to do it yourself.' He knows I hate cleaning..." She shook her head, and wiped her eye. "What were you trying to say before?" she asked, as she lit a candle.

"Erm..." Ron hadn't expected this. This was special to Luna. The first time she'd been in this room of her mother's. He had a feeling her pulse had sped up, as she was acting normaler. More normal. 

The room they were in was relatively small. It had two armchairs, a table, and candleholders lining the walls. Luna took a seat in one of the chairs, but Ron wanted to stand.

"You were saying?" she asked.

"Er...this past year, I didn't treat you very well. But then...the last few days... Everything seemed to change. It felt just like old times. Well, except for you calling me 'Ron.' It's just...I like being friends with you. A lot. I didn't really notice how much I missed it. I wish..." He was trying to think of a way to say it.

"Luna, could we... Could we just...start over? Just pick up where we left off? Like the last five years...didn't happen?"

Luna smiled slightly. "You want to start over?"

Ron nodded. "Yeah."

"So, you want me to call you 'Ronald' again?" she asked, pushing a stray bit of dirty-blond hair behind an ear. Ron realised she was wearing the radishes.

"I kinda liked it when you called me Ronald," he admitted, rather sheepishly. "Only my Mum calls me that, and that's only when she's mad. I liked having someone call me it without the anger."

"Alright then, Ronald," she said. "We shall start over. As if the last five years never happened." She held out her left hand. He shook it.

"Ronald..." she said, chuckling.

"What?"

"I didn't want to shake your hand," she informed him. "I can't get up."

"Oh!" Ron exclaimed, awkwardly pulling her from the chair. It seemed more like a bottomless pit than an armchair.

"Goodbye, Ronald," said Luna, standing on tiptoe and kissing him on the cheek. Without another word, she quickly exited the little room.

He touched the spot on his face where Luna had kissed him, looking puzzled, as though he was not quite sure what had just happened.

**_

~ That's All Folks! ~  
Just Kidding! 

_** There's only the epilogue left, and then the next instalment in the Yesterday Sequence will begin. "Believe in Yesterday," will focus on the summer after fifth year. **_ ~ Next Chapter ~  
Epilogue _** "The most critical reader of all, myself, now finds many defects,  
minor and major, but being fortunately under no obligation  
either to review the book or to write it again, he will pass over  
these in silence, except one that has been noted by others:  
the book is too short."  
~ Tolkien **_ ~ Coming Soon ~ _**


	21. Epilogue

Living inside Yesterday  
_ Potter47 ** **_ "The most critical reader of all, myself, now finds many defects,  
minor and major, but being fortunately under no obligation  
either to review the book or to write it again, he will pass over  
these in silence, except one that has been noted by others:  
the book is too short."  
~ Tolkien **_ ~ Epilogue ~  
No Place Like Home_**

Days passed, and all the "hubbub," as such things have been called, without particular explanation, had died down. Much to Snape's delight (and, presumably, Dumbledore's), Professor McGonagall returned from St. Mungo's, taking up her place as Headmistress. She had returned with a walking stick which on various occasions seemed to _vanish_, as if she didn't think she needed it. Of course, _she_ then vanished for a bit, as if having a lie down.

The beginning of the summer holidays was fast approaching. It was becoming hotter and hotter in the usually not-so-hot mountains in which Hogwarts was located, and young witches and wizards could frequently be seen taking a swim in the lake. Rarely did someone wear their school robes, opting for the cooler alternative of Muggle T-shirts and trousers. Hermione, however, was rarely seen _out _of her school robes, claiming that "they were the _uniform_, and they were meant to be _worn!_" This seemed odd to Harry and Ron, as she had often worn Muggle clothes previously. Perhaps she was on strike.

For Harry, his last days with Ginny seemed to tick away. No, not second by second, prolonging the time until the train home -- more like,each day _felt_ like a second. And, after all, there are only so many seconds that one can hold their breath. Eventually, he had to let it go, instead of trying to figure ways to extend the days. Ginny had suggested casting the _Tempus Fugit_ spell on the two of them, but they hadn't attempted it. Harry wasn't very fond of the casting of spells with Voldemort's wand, and he wasn't entirely sure the spell could last. It might, for all he knew, project them into the future if it wasn't taken off after a certain amount of time. They were both a bit tired of living inside yesterday, and living in tomorrow couldn't be much more fun.

The breath was released. 

The Hogwarts Express glistened in the distance, as Harry, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Luna and Neville, all made their way down to Hogsmeade Station. It seemed almost amazing, that no more people could see the thestrals than the last time, when they went to the Ministry. No one had died. Yet.

Harry shivered in the warm air. If someone _had _died... He didn't want to think about it. But what if someone _did_ die, in the future? What if Sirius died? Or Ron? Or Hermione? He shivered once again, wondering if anyone would notice his sudden quivering. _What if Ginny dies?_

He couldn't think about that. It..._no._ He could already sense the nightmares he would have at the Dursleys; dreams of the Burrow being attacked, Ginny lying dead in front of the rest of the Weasleys. Voldemort laughing, pointing Harry's own wand at its owner. The curse...the light...

Harry's eyes snapped open. He hadn't realised they were closed. Ginny was looking worriedly at him. _She's okay..._ So were the rest.

"You okay, Harry?" asked Ron nervously. "You didn't have a...vision, did you?" he asked quietly, as if the thestrals were spying on them.

Harry's gaze connected with Ginny's, and he could feel her hand surreptitiously squeeze his own.

"No," Harry said surely. "No, I just drifted off. Must be the heat."

"You are _sure_ you're alright, Harry?" asked Hermione, from across the carriage. 

"He's _fine_, Hermione," said Ginny, smiling. "Yesterday, I nearly fainted by the lake, it was so hot. Too bad the founders didn't put some sort of...what's Dad call them? Mermotheters? The little dials..."

"Thermometers," corrected Hermione at once. "And you probably are thinking of _thermostats_, anyway."

"Whatever."

It took them what seemed a long time, to reach the train. In fact, it was the first thing that had taken a long time, for Harry, since he and Ginny...since the day on the Astronomy Tower.

As fate would have it, the four incompetent Gryffindors, one incompetent Ravenclaw, and one not-so-incompetent Gryffindor found themselves situated in the very same compartment they occupied at the beginning of the year. 

"Chess?" Hermione asked the compartment at large, surprising everyone, save Luna, who merely said, "Alright."

"_What_?" demanded Ron. "Since when do you play chess, Hermione? You've never liked chess."

"Sometimes, people change, Ronald," said Luna sagely. "But sometimes they don't have too." The others looked at her oddly, as the second statement wasn't all-that-relevant. "What?" she asked. "Who's going to play winner?"

No-one indicated their interest, but Luna didn't even seem to notice. She proceeded to set up the chess board, taking the white pieces for herself, and leaving the blacks for Hermione. The game was quick; Luna being surprisingly skilled at chess. Ron's white pieces obeyed her without a single rude remark.

During the ride, the chessboard was passed from person to person; Ginny beating Luna; Neville beating Ginny; Harry beating Neville; until Harry was playing Ron, for what seemed to be the millionth time in five years.

"Hope I'm not _interrupting_ anything..." drawled a cold voice from the compartment door. Everyone's gaze jumped from Harry's capture of Ron's bishop, to Draco Malfoy in the doorway of the compartment.

"You're always interrupting, Malfoy," said Harry. "It's what you do best."

"Thank you," the Slytherin said, bowing. 

"What do you want, Malfoy?" said Hermione with her usual politeness-toward-Malfoy. 

"I want a lot of things, Granger," snarled Malfoy, licking his bicuspid quite visibly. 

"Toothpaste?" she suggested, causing a snort from Ginny's direction.

Malfoy turned on Ginny. "Guess who I saw snogging _your_ boyfriend!" he taunted. Now, a more intelligent, and perceptive person than Malfoy would have noticed how very close Harry and Ginny were sitting, but, alas, this was not a more intelligent or perceptive person than Malfoy.

"Hmm..." Ginny murmured, rubbing her chin sarcastically. "Well, I know it isn't Cho Chang..."

"Huh?" said Ron confusedly. "What?"

"Ha!" cried Malfoy. "It _is_ Cho Chang! Must be annoying, everyone you fancy turning to her...Speaking of people you fancy -- _you _were dating Chang, Potter. When did that end? Or _did _it..."

"If you were a more intelligent, and perceptive person, Malfoy," sneered Hermione, "you would have realised that Harry hasn't been dating Cho Chang since February. But, obviously you're _not _a more intelligent or perceptive person..." That's getting repetitive, isn't it?

"Be careful, Granger," Malfoy warned smugly, "you never know who's listening." 

"And what's that supposed to mean?" she demanded.

Malfoy's voice was but a harsh whisper. "I hear my dad pulled the wool over your eyes, up at the Riddle House. Heard everything you said to that _traitor_." It was clear Malfoy's high regard for Snape had blown out the window and was now chasing its tail in the Forbidden Forest. "Wish I could've been there; I would've _loved_ to see the look on your face... Oh, right, you never said; how _is_ spew going these days?"

"Say, Malfoy," ground out Ron. "Did dear-old-daddy also say what Hermione here _did_ to him?"

"Be _quiet_, Ron," snaped Hermione. 

"I know she didn't _swear_..." Malfoy said knowingly, not paying Ron the respect of looking his way. 

"She hit him right in the face," said Ron proudly, ignoring them both, "with the--"

"_Silencio!_"

Ron's final words were cut off by the Silencing Charm. His eyes widened, and he looked, enraged, at Hermione. But she paid him no mind, for she was too busy cursing Malfoy into oblivion.

"_Iterius!_" 

No, seriously; Malfoy disappeared, with a muffled _crack!_ It seemed, to all present, that Hermione had indeed cursed him into oblivion.

"_Do you _want_ me to go to Azkaban?!_" Hermione hissed, practically jumping atop the still-silenced Ron. She shoved the much taller boy into the compartment wall, hands around his neck, cutting off the air from his lungs. "_Never_ tell _anyone_ that I did that. _Ever_."

"Let him go!" cried Luna, jumping up from her seat, wand drawn on the Hermione-that-does-not-seem-like-Hermione.

"Why should I?" she asked, pushing harder on the wheezing Ron.

"Because he's _Ron!_" Luna exclaimed, wand still raised. "He _always_ does stuff like that. It's just how he _is_. He's _proud_ that you used the..." Hermione glared at her. "The you-know-what." Luna had quieted to a near-whisper. "Let him go."

As if a spell had worn off, the Hermione-that-does-not-seem-like-Hermione snapped back into plain old Hermione-that-_does_-seem-like-Hermione. Her hands quickly released Ron's neck, and he slid down the wall, until sitting on the floor. His hands massaged his throat, as he tried to speak. Of course, the silencing charm was still in effect, so that didn't work out too well.

A horrified Hermione waved her wand, and the magic preventing Ron's vocal chords evaporated. 

"I don't know what happened..." she murmured, staring at the hands that committed the crime. "I would _never _do that to Ron..._never_. W-why would I?" Tears were beginning to form in her eyes.

Harry, Ginny, and Neville stared at the scene, having no idea what was happening. Hermione was right; she wouldn't do that to Ron. She might threaten once in a while, but she never would actually _hurt_ him...right? Of course not! It wasn't like she was a Slytherin or anything like that. No, something was wrong.

"Calm down, Hermione," said Harry awkwardly. "It's okay now."

"It's probably the weather," suggested Ginny. 

And so it was excepted. No-one mentioned it again. Of course, no-one _really _believed it was merely the weather. Something was wrong. Hermione, being Hermione actually had a pretty good idea _what _was wrong, but, being Hermione, she didn't tell a soul.

"So," said Ron, once he and Harry had resumed their chess game. "Was he lying?"

"'Bout what?" asked Harry, trying desperately to rescue his queen-side-rook. 

"About Cho Chang, and Corner," said Ron, ending Harry's attempts in one fell swoop, with his surviving bishop.

"What about them?" said Harry vaguely, despite knowing perfectly well what his best mate was talking about.

"Are they really...you know, dating?"

"Yeah, why do you care?" he said indifferently.

Harry could have sworn he heard a soft _Yes!_ from Ron, but he didn't comment.

"I'm...really sorry, Ginny," Ron said, clearly anything but.

"About what?" she said, surreptitiously pointing out a move for Harry while Ron was distracted.

"That that Corner git broke up with you." Ron replied, wondering where his queen had gone. "I always knew he was an idiot..."

"_Excuse_ me?" said Ginny. "Whoever said _he_ broke up with _me?_ If you need to know, _I _dumped _him._"

Ron stopped in the middle of a move, hoping to avenge his queen. "Really?" he said, almost proudly. 

"Yeah, Ron," she said. "I dumped him. Why do you care?"

Ron was clearly smiling. "No reason. Just choose someone -- better -- next time." He cast Harry an oddly hilarious glance as he said it.

Both Harry and Ginny nearly burst out laughing. "Hmm..." she said, rubbing her chin coolly. "Would you say Draco Malfoy is _better_?"

"WHAT?!"

"I'm _joking_, Ron," said Ginny, laughing at the enraged look on her brother's face. "Everyone knows Hermione's the one that fancies Malfoy. I mean, after today's scene, who can deny it?"

"Yeah," said Ron, now also joking, "of _course_ Hermione will fancy a Slytherin. It's _so_ like her. She'd be more likely to marry Flitwick."

"Flitwick is married," stated Hermione out-of-the-blue, perfectly seriously. In fact, her tone closely resembled Luna's, when stating "everyday facts." 

"Wait a minute..." said Neville, speaking for the first time in a while. "Hermione, what _did_ you do to Malfoy? Where's he going to turn up?"

"It's difficult to be sure," said Hermione. "But he should find his way out of the Forbidden Forest by the start of term. Of course, he will have no recollection of the events that transpired here today."

Everyone laughed.

"You think I'm joking?"

* * *

The train arrived at Platform Nine and Three-Quarters, much too soon for Harry's liking. In just a few minutes, he would be leaving for the Dursleys, and he wouldn't see Ginny again for Dumbledore-knows-how-long; he wished the Headmaster would let him leave Privet Drive soon, this summer. Maybe he could see the Burrow again.

Harry and Ginny hung back, as the four others left the train. 

"So," said Ginny, breaking the silence that had settled upon them. "I guess this is good-bye."

"Yeah," said Harry.

"Maybe you can come to the Burrow soon," she said. "Dumbledore's bound to let you, after all that's happened."

"Yeah," said Harry monotonously.

"Come _on_, Harry," said Ginny, shaking her head. "You're not even back at the Dursleys yet and your already acting all...grumpy. Do I need to be here _every second_ to cheer you up?"

"Yeah," said Harry, his mouth quirking a little.

"Don't I wish..." She stepped up to him, and hugged him round the neck. "You're sure we can't use the spell?" she asked his shoulder.

"Yeah," he said once again.

"Quiet, you," she said, and quieted him the best way she knew. They didn't break apart until they heard someone outside call, "EVERYONE OFF?"

"Coming!" called Ginny, practically jumping down the Express' steps. Harry followed as best he could.

As they emerged on the other side of the barrier, they saw an unlikely group of people. Well, not _entirely_ of people. There was also a rather large dog...

"Snuffles!" Harry said happily, running up to his godfather. Hermione was standing by, with the rest of the group, looking disapprovingly at the black canine. It seemed _she, _at least, remembered the close call they had at the start of term.

"It's good to see you, Harry," said Lupin, smiling down at the two -- or three, if you count Ginny, who was also nearby.

"'Course it is," said Tonks, standing next to the former professor. "And what else would you say? 'I'm really disappointed you had to come back so soon!' Not bloody likely."

"You too, Professor, Tonks."

"Dumbledore says to call her by her first name," said Fred, or George, grinning next to their parents, who were next to Moody, who was next to Lupin. "It's good for her, he says. Something about, 'Fear of a name...'"

"What was the rest, _Nymphadora_?" asked the other twin.

"'_Only increases fear of the thing itself,_'" recited Nymphadora. "Yeah, yeah. Dumbledore's not here is he? It's _Tonks_," she practically spit at him.

"_I _don't see what's wrong with Nymphadora," said Luna conversationally. "It's a lovely name."

"FOUR SYLLABLES!" she cried. "It's too bloody _long_ to be a first name." Hermione glared at her.

"Would you prefer, _Dora_?" asked Lupin pleasantly.

"Only if you want me to call you _Rey_!" He winced. "Ha!"

"What is this, a bloody traffic jam?!" cried a familiar not-so-friendly voice. "Hand over the boy so we can be out of this freak show!"

"So _this_ is the famous Vernon Dursley I've heard so much about..." grumbled Mad-Eye, circling around him, bowler hat in place.

"Famous?" asked Uncle Vernon, almost giddily, spinning around. "Who said that? I'm Vernon Dursley!"

Many an eye stared at the fat man waving a hand high in the air, to indicate his position. 

"And _we're _freaks?" said Ron to no-one-in-particular.

* * *

After the immensely entertaining spectacle that followed, Harry and the Dursleys parted ways from the wizarding world. Harry felt as though he had come to a great crossroad, and it was worse than any year prior. Now he would miss not only Hogwarts, the Weasleys, Hermione, and Sirius, but he would miss this...feeling. This feeling he never even knew existed. The feeling he felt when near Ginny. 

Harry had never been a particularly religious person, as he had never really had the chance to learn anything to do with any church. But now, for the first time in his life, he prayed. He prayed to God, that nothing would happen to Ginny, and he never was so serious about anything in his entire life. It felt unbelievably important, as if the entire fate of his future depended on this prayer. He was totally lost within his own mind, for God-knows-how-long, until he was shaken out of his reverie by a beefy hand. 

"Dudley wants a new computer game, boy. We're stopping here."

Harry looked around. They were in a big car park, surrounded by shops on all sides. Dudley was running ahead of them, as fast as his fat legs could carry him, toward an electronics store.

"Of course, Uncle Vernon. I'll just wait here..."

"Oh, no you don't, boy." Harry's uncle shook his head furiously. "There is no way I'm going to leave you in this brand new car, by _yourself_. You'll wreck it."

Harry had no idea of which brand new car his uncle spoke. The car he was sitting in was five years old. 

"Fine, Uncle Vernon. Let's hope I don't _wreck_ the whole store," Harry grumbled.

His uncle seemed to be having second thoughts, but Harry just got out of the company car, and started in his trot to the electronics store.

"Harry, wait." He spun around, wondering who was calling him "Harry." It didn't seem to be such a common name with the Dursleys.

"Aunt Petunia?" he said confusedly. "What?"

It was the first time he had really looked at his aunt since they had come to King's Cross. She had hung back at the station. She seemed different. As if under some sort of spell. She reached into her purse, as she caught up with him. 

"Buy her something." She stuffed twenty or so pounds into his fist, before striding away quickly after Dudley. Harry stared, confused, after her.

* * *

"Hedwig!" cried Ginny, jumping up from her bed. She had been home a day. One miserable day. She had dreamed for years that Harry would fall for her, but she never had really anticipated the feeling of loneliness when he wasn't there. The arrival of Hedwig was the greatest thing she could have wished for, short of Harry himself falling from the sky.

Hedwig plopped down on her desk, looking around in vain for a bowl of water, while holding out her leg.

Ginny supposed, later, that she should have been a bit more considerate of the owl's feelings, but she couldn't help but tear the package right off her outstretched leg. Hedwig hooted, irate, and flew right back out the window. _Oh, well, _thought Ginny. _My boyfriend's owl hates my guts. No big deal. He got me a present!_

For he did. There was a note, and a rectangular package. She scrambled for the note, and tore open the envelope.

"Dearest Ginny," she read aloud. "Dearest? I never thought Harry would say _dearest_..."

__

Dearest Ginny,

It's been...eight hours, since we parted ways. You probably are busy playing quidditch, or some other fun thing, so I'll make it short...

"NO!"

__

Well, on the way home from the station, Dudley made us stop at an electronics store--

"So _that's_ how you spell eckeltronics!"

__

--and Uncle Vernon made me come in. Well...I saw this, and I thought of you. Not that I wasn't_ thinking of you...I just...well, you'll see when you open it. Or did you already open it? I don't know what you do first... maybe I'll leave another note inside the package, to make sure you read it first. Oh, right, I said I was gonna keep this short..._

Well, I saw this at the store, and I immediately thought of you. I think it's a pretty fitting end to the school year. Too bad I'm a bit late...

Love,

Harry

P.S. Can't wait to come to the Burrow. It's my real home, and you know what they say; there's no place like home.

"They say that? Who's they?" Ginny shrugged, planning on asking him about it when she wrote back...damn. She'd have to use Pig.

"So, my first present from Harry..." She couldn't help but be sentimental about it. She'd waited five years for a _real_ present. She didn't really count Lockhart's books, in her first year. Of course, if she said that to her eleven-year-old self, she'd be laughed at; she'd practically worshipped those books and it wasn't because of Lockhart.

She unwrapped the package. Sure enough, there was another note within it, saying pretty much the same things as the first one, minus the "I'll write another note..." part.

She looked down at the rectangular thing she held in her hands. She didn't particularly know _what_ it was, but she knew what it said; she knew why it was fitting.

"So _this_ is what he was talking about. I'll have to ask Dad how it works..."

For, at the bottom of the rectangle, there was a yellow-brick-road. Above it, there was a red-haired girl, a dog, a lion, a..._is that a scarecrow?_ and a man made of metal. Atop the package, in big letters, read, _The Wizard of Oz._

** ~ The End ~  
  
  
  
** I FINISHED! Wow! Twenty plus chapters! In case you don't know, this was my very first novel-length story. It will not, however, be my last. I have the other three fics in the Yesterday Sequence _all _plannedout_... _ Okay, so I'm lying, I haven't got a couple of the chapters in the fourth fic, _The Day after Tomorrow_, planned, but the rest is all set. Now, if demanded, I _may_ write a prequel after all four fics are complete, chronicling the _other_ people the bell jar fell on (I thought it was rather obvious, but apparently some people haven't figured it out yet). However, I'd like to finish these first. Now, the next story in the Yesterday Sequence, which I will begin work on as soon as I finish typing this Author's Note, is called _Believe in Yesterday._ It takes place during the summer holidays directly after this one ended. It will, of course, be Harry/Ginny, but the actual _plot _follows Ron and Luna. Thus, it will likely go in that category on Fanfiction.net. Much of the filler, however, will be plotless H/G fluff that doesn't further the story of the sequence whatsoever. (Or _does it?_) All the H/Hers over there in the R/L section are gonna kill me.... Of course, I've been lucky with those die-hard R/Hers, so far, so maybe I'll live! Now, here's the summary of _Believe in Yesterday_, just to wet your appetites: _What if you could reach back in time and change the one event that forever altered your life?   
Would you do it? What would it be? _ It will be awhile before the prologue goes up, as I want to write a few chapters first.   
So don't expect it in the usual five days. I believe it will be worth the wait. See you next time... **_ ~ Same Bat Time... ~ ~ Same Bat Channel... ~ ~ Unless on fanfiction.net... ~ _**

~ As stated above... ~


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